


A Study in Sugar Daddies

by RosieFreebatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Sex, Bisexual Greg Lestrade, Bisexual John Watson, Bottom Greg Lestrade, Bottom John Watson, Bottom Sebastian, Clubbing, Crack, Daddy Kink, Dancing, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, Homosexuality, Humor, John is a Good Friend, M/M, Med Student John, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Pining Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock Has a Military Kink, Student Greg Lestrade, Sugar Daddy Mycroft, Sugar Daddy Sherlock, Top Jim Moriarty, Top Mycroft, Top Sherlock, Trans Character, Unilock, alternate first meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-16 11:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieFreebatch/pseuds/RosieFreebatch
Summary: For his sociology class, Greg Lestrade is required to find and interview a person participating in a specific subculture. When he learns his friend and fellow classmate Sebastian Moran is involved with a sugar daddy, he’s got his project.Roping in flatmate and med student John Watson into helping him, they peruse a sugar daddy website looking for the perfect candidate. Greg comes across Mycroft Holmes and thinks he’d be a good subject. Greg just wants a good grade, but Mycroft just wants Greg. And John, who’s along for the ride, winds up being pursued by Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft’s younger brother, who’s on the prowl for a new boytoy after his last one got tired of being a boytoy, and a boy all together.A Mystrade and Johnlock story that’s pure crack, fluff and humor.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I finished my Omegaverse Johnlock story, this plotbunny sprung into my head after reading some really good Sugar Daddy Sherlock fics. I wanted mine to be almost completely angst-free though, and I've added Sugar Daddy Mycroft and Sugar Daddy Moriarty too! 
> 
> FYI - Mycroft, Sherlock, and Jim are slightly OOC and I'm not following any canon. Enjoy the crack!

“You can’t be serious!”

John Watson eyes his best friend and flatmate Greg Lestrade with sharp blue eyes. Greg’s just told him about the project he has to do for his sociology class.

“I am 100 percent serious John. I think it’s a great idea.”

“I can see interviewing a transgender person, or con cosplayers, or someone along those lines, but a sugar daddy?” Why that?”

Greg flopped into his armchair and put his feet on the coffee table. “Sebastian just told me he’s got one. He’s been dating him for three months now. Have you noticed he’s wearing designer clothes and he no longer takes the tube everywhere like we do?”

John sat down on the worn out tan sofa. “Yeah, but I thought he was being helped out by a rich relative.”

Greg shook his head. “Nope. He went online to SugarDaddies4U and found a super-rich man to take care of him. He’s moved into his flat on Harley Street and the guy’s paying for his tuition.”

“I’m sure Sebastian has to provide him with plenty of cock for all of this,” John dryly replied.

“Oh yeah, but come on, we know how much Sebastian loves sex. He’d give it up for the postman,” Greg cracked.

John let out a snort. “True. So, you’re going to go on this SugarDaddies4U and find a guy to interview?”

Greg nodded. “I need to create a profile. I’m not going to lie though. I’m straight up going to say I’m a uni student doing a project for my sociology class looking for someone to discuss why they became a sugar daddy, and the pros and cons of being in a relationship where they’re financially supporting their partner. Everything is going to be discreet. I’m not naming any names. And after the project is done, if they want to pursue something more, I’m open to it.”

John looked at him knowingly. “A-ha! So you are looking for one for yourself.”

“Hey, I have no shame. If a guy will agree to help me pay for my schooling and the rent for this dump, even better.” A devious glint gleamed in his brown eyes. “Say John---”

“Don’t even think about it.” John crossed his arms in defiance. “I’m not going to troll for a sugar daddy. I want to be self-sufficient.”

“Oh come on John, stop being a moral goody-goody for a change!” Greg tutted. “Med school isn’t cheap. Aren’t you tired of working long shifts at the school lab and serving coffee at Speedy’s? If we both had sugar daddies, we’d be on easy street!”

“But they’d expect us to have tons of sex. We’d be too tired to do anything else!” John argued.

“I think you’ve watched too many movies John. Most sugar daddies are just nice old men looking for companionship. We may not have to do anything sexual, just be there and talk to them.” Greg joined his friend on the sofa and put an arm around him. “Please John? I’d do this if it were you.” He gazed at him with puppy dog eyes.

After a few seconds, John threw himself back on the sofa and groaned. “Oh, okay! I’ll help you with this project. The things I do for my friends. When do you want to get started?”

Greg grinned madly. “Thanks John! This will be fun. I thought this Friday night. You have off, and Mike cancelled his party to spend the weekend with Molly so I have no plans.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, now that Molly finally agreed to date him, he’s not taking any chances.” He suddenly had a thought. “Hey Greg, how come you can’t interview Sebastian’s man?”

“I already thought about that, but he and Sebastian are getting ready to head to Ibiza for spring break so they’ll be gone for two weeks. And from what Seb’s told me, he’s pretty possessive. However, we are invited to their place Saturday night for dinner. I’ve never met him, so this should be interesting.”

“Are we going?” John asked, a little apprehensively.

“Hell yeah! It’s not everyday you get invited to a posh flat on Harley Street. Come on John, live a little!” Greg said enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe this. First, trolling for sugar daddies on the Internet, and then having dinner with a live one. I can’t wait until this is over and I can go back to my boring life.” John groaned again, and Greg laughed.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys create their profiles at SugarDaddies4U.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More cute pics of young Greg and young John in this chapter!

It was a rainy Friday night, and Greg and John were in Greg's bedroom, sitting in front of his laptop at his desk. The home page of SugarDaddies4U was loaded. It was a tasteful, minimalist page with a black background and the slogan in gold script lettering at the top. There were two gold buttons in the center. The one on the left said "Members Log In" and the one on the right said "Register." 

It was a paid site, and Greg was using a credit card he had for emergencies only. So he clicked "Register" and began the lengthy process of setting up his profile.

John had taken a picture of him earlier today on his smartphone. Greg had an arm bent, leaning against a wall, hand in his dark brown hair. He was wearing a navy blue long-sleeved polo shirt and looking seductively into the camera.

As John plugged his phone with the USB cord attached into the matching slot on the laptop, he had to admit it was a pretty good picture of his friend and flatmate. Greg was a handsome guy.

"This picture I took will attract lots of potential candidates for your project," John predicted.

"I hope so, or I'll have to go to Plan B," Greg said.

"Oh God, I hate to ask what Plan B is, but what?" John asked.

"Furries."

"Yeah, let's hope _and_ pray you attract lots of potential candidates," John deadpanned.

Greg entered his credit card information. A yearly subscription to the site was 40 pounds. "Hope this money doesn't go to waste or I'll be asking Professor McCann for a refund," he joked.

Once the fee was paid, Greg was taken to another screen where he would add his photo and other information. "Hey John, we can upload my pic right from the phone."

John did the steps to add the photo, and soon Greg's pout was online. "Sexy bastard isn't he?" Greg grinned at his friend. John just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, here's a box for me to type in some facts about me. His fingers were flying across the keyboard. John watched the words appear.

"Hi, my name is Greg Lestrade. I'm twenty years old and attending St. Bart's University. I live in downtown London. I'm a criminal justice major and my goal is to become a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard. I have to do a project for my sociology class where I interview a person participating in a well-known subculture of society and I'm looking to speak with a sugar daddy. I want to know why you wanted to become a sugar daddy, the benefits and the downsides. I will not use your real name and will be discreet. I look forward to hearing from interested parties. Please email me at gregorylestrade@stbarts.uk.edu. Thank you."

Greg turned to John. How does that sound? Is that too formal?"

"No, I think it's fine. It's simple and to the point. You're not leading them on," John answered in approval.

Greg continued, moving down to Interests/Hobbies. He said that he played rugby for the St. Bart's team, liked going to pubs, going dancing, reading crime novels, and watching Top Gear, Doctor Who, and was a fan of Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes.

Greg saved his profile. "Okay, done. Now we wait."

"You ready for some takeaway? I'm starving," John said. His stomach growled to prove the point.

"Definitely. Indian sound good?"

"I'm so hungry, cardboard would be tasty," John cracked.

"Okay, you call and order," Greg told him.

After John hung up with the restaurant, Greg turned him, a cheeky smile on his lips. "Okay John, now it's your turn to register. I'll pay the fee."

John was horrified. He held his hands up in protest. "No fucking way! I promised to help you find someone to interview and that's it."

"Come on mate! What's the harm? You're a good-looking dude, they'll be tons of men wanting to date you!"

John shook his head vehemently. "Not interested. Besides, I have someone interested in me. Luke, Angelo's son. He hinted yesterday after my anatomy class he wants to take me out."

"John, why would you want to go out with a guy that washes dishes in his dad's restaurant when you have all these lonely, rich men waiting for hot studs like us online?"

"Simple. There's nothing expected of me with Luke except to have a good time. He's not one to want to jump in bed right away."

Greg batted his eyelashes at his friend. "Jooohn, please? I don't want to feel alone in this."

"It was your bloody idea!" John retorted.

"I know, but you agreed you'd help me! So help me and create a profile! If we actually both find someone, we can double date." Greg gave John his best pleading look.

After a few beats, John threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine. But if I get any weirdos or freaks, I'm out."

John took his place at the laptop and maneuvered back to the home page to register. Greg gave him his credit card and John started to create his profile.

"I've got the perfect pic for you to use. It's the one where you're sitting outside, drinking a glass of water, looking like a right git." Greg pulled out his phone. "I knew this would come in handy someday. He grabbed his charger and hooked it up to the laptop.

Within minutes, John had his picture displayed:

"Christ, I look so pretentious," John said, laughing.

"No mate, you look hot. That's what these guys are looking for," Greg told him.

John typed out his facts:

"Hello, I'm John Watson. I'm twenty-two, a uni student in the St. Bart's medical program. I've wanted to be a doctor ever since I was ten, so I'm making my dream come true. Well, I'm struggling to make my dream come true. Med school is expensive. I'm working two jobs and live in a crap flat in London, but that's what you have to do if you want to make it in life. If there's anyone out there who might want to provide some uh, help, with my outrageous tuition, I'm not going to turn it down, I mean, that's why I'm on this site right? Actually, my friend asked me to join so we can double date. I'm not the best-looking guy, but you could do worse. Contact me: sonofwat@livemail.com

Greg bust out laughing. "John that's ace, I love it!"

John grinned. He had to admit, this was actually a lot of fun. He went down and typed in his interests and hobbies. Like Greg, he played rugby for St. Bart's, was a Doctor Who and Top Gear fan, but he also loved James Bond, Star Wars, 80's music, and was a vegetarian. 

He saved his profile, and closed the laptop lid. "When should we check back?"

"We'll wait a couple of hours," Greg said. He smiled knowingly at John. "You're loving this, aren't you. Be honest!"

"Yeah, yeah, I am, damn it," John replied, laughing.

There was a knock at the door. "FOOD!" both men shouted out loud at the same time, and they raced to the living room.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and John check to see if anyone's responded to Greg's profile, and he chooses Mycroft Holmes to interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures and in-jokes abound in this short chapter!

Greg and John ate their dinner, watched their DVD of _Star Trek: Into Darkness_ for the twelfth time, and then they rushed to Greg's room to see if anyone responded to their SugarDaddies4U profiles. 

Greg logged into his profile page. He was surprised to see five responses. "They don't waste any time," he murmured. "Well, let's load 'em up and see what we have."

The first reply was from a sixty year-old retired doctor named Peter in Cambridge who would be more than happy to be interviewed for Greg's project---as long as Greg was willing to engage in "nursing home roleplay" during it. 

"Nursing home roleplay? What the hell does that mean?"

John snickered. "It means he wants to pretend he's a nursing home resident and you his aide, and you change his nappies and feed him pudding." 

Greg blanched, his brown eyes blown wide open. "Are you bloody serious? And how do you know that's what he wants to do?"

"Well you know Harry's a home health aide," he began, referring to his older sister. "She's told me some pretty freaky stories about some of her patients, and one, a man, wanted her to engage in some of that stuff. He was totally continent, and could feed himself. She had to go to her boss to request another aide to go in there because he gave her the creeps."

"Jesus," Greg muttered. "Right, definitely not my division. Let's move on."

The next one was from a woman. She gave her age as thirty-one, lived in London, was independently wealthy, and worked as a dominatrix. She was very attractive, with pale blue eyes, red lips, and dark brown hair pulled up into an elaborate bun. She was also wearing a see-through lace dress and holding a whip.

 

"Irene Adler," Greg read on the screen. "Hot damn, she wants to 'show off her her trade' to me. She's gorgeous, but I don't want to come away with bruises and a raw arse," he replied. 

"Why don't we give her Sholto's email," John said, a devious grin on his face. "He'd be up for it."

"Yeah! Great idea John! He's been hard up for months." Greg typed a reply to her that thanked her for her interest, but he wasn't into BDSM, however, he had a mutual friend who was. He gave her James Sholto's name, email, and reassured her this wasn't a joke, and he attended St. Bart's as well. 

"You know, if this sugar daddy thing doesn't pan out, we could become matchmakers," Greg joked.

The next two were a pair of husband and wife swingers living in Oxford. They were sharing a young man who decided to join the Army, so they were in need of a replacement. Greg nixed them. "Too Fred and Rosemary West for my tastes. I'd probably end up in chains in a basement."

The final response was from a forty-two year old man who said he was a former British government official, now running a successful club called The Diogenes, in London. His name was Mycroft Holmes, and he said he was very interested in Greg's project, adding "you seem like a very intelligent, well-read young man whom I'd love to get to know better."

"Hey he's pretty fit," John remarked. 

"He also seemed the most normal too, despite that funny name. Sounds like something out of a cheesy romance novel. Still, I think I'm going to choose him. I'll send him a reply so we can set up a time to talk." Greg emailed him back, and logged off his profile with a big smile. "Okay John, let's see if you have any takers."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fred and Rosemary West were a married British couple who kidnapped, tortured, and murdered young girls in their home.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John reads his responses, and is both intrigued and horrified by a certain one. Guess who it is...

John was a bit nervous logging into his profile. Greg had found what seemed to be a decent bloke in Mycroft Holmes, but he made it clear he only wanted to interview someone for his class project---so far. John wrote he was looking for someone to help him pay for school, so he was sure he'd get the more randy and horny prospects. 

Greg was fired up and ready to see if John had attracted any potential suitors. "I can't wait! This is so exciting!"

"For you maybe," John grumbled. "Okay, it's now or never."

Both boys' mouths dropped when they saw sixteen replies to John's profile. "Bloody hell, you're popular!" Greg exclaimed.

"I don't even want to know what these people were searching for when they clicked on me," John replied. 

He started to weed through the responses. The first several were from typical sugar daddies in their forties and fifties, all average looking men who complimented John on his looks and wanted to meet him. "So far so good. Normal chaps," John said, feeling more at ease. He saved those.

One was from a man who described himself as a self-made millionaire with a pharmaceutical background who would love to have John come and live with him. "I will pay for your schooling, and in turn you will allow me to test the latest experimental drugs on you, and record your side effects. You may experience loss of memory and hallucinations, but I promise I'll be gentle."

"Culverton Smith," John read aloud. "Hell no. He looks like a serial killer!"

Greg nodded his head in agreement. "He kinda looks like Donald Trump too."

"Well, I'm deleting him. Next!"

After Mr. Smith was another man who looked to be in his late fifties. He had curly gray hair, claimed to be a television writer for the BBC, and loved to make people hate him.

"Steven Moffat. Hmm, doesn't sound too bad, and dating a BBC writer could be interesting. Maybe I can convince him to do something about Doctor Who," John said. "I'll save that one."

He continued to read through the responses. It was a mix of weird and normal. "To be honest, this is a bit boring. I mean, at least I don't have someone who wants me to put nappies on them, but isn't there anyone more exciting and sane at the same time?"

Finally he got to the very last one. The man's profile picture showed a very good-looking, pale man with dark curly hair wearing a purple shirt rolled up at the sleeves that looked one size too small for him. Well, John thought he was good-looking, but it was hard to tell because he had his head turned. But he had a very attractive side profile. He also had what John thought was the longest neck he'd ever seen on a human.

 

John started to read what the man wrote.

Hello John, my name is Sherlock Holmes. I'm thirty-three years old and live in central London. I clicked on your page and liked what you wrote. And you are very good-looking, as a matter of fact, I think you're beautiful. I also like you're a med student, so you're not like most of the idiots that are on this site looking for someone to financially support them. I'll pay for your tuition. I'll take you to fancy restaurants, we'll go on vacations to my family's home in France, my cottage in Sussex, anywhere you want. I'll play the violin for you. If you're interested and I hope you are, the address is 221 B Baker Street, right above Speedy's. I hope to hear from you soon. 

"Well," John breathed. 

"He's the one!" Greg told him happily. "Look at the man, he's gorgeous! He is working that purple shirt! That shirt is pure sex!"

"Did you see his last name Greg? It's Holmes. You think it's any relation to your Mycroft Holmes?" John sat back and pursed his lips. "I wonder if these two are pulling our legs and have something sinister planned for us. He says he lives above Speedy's---I work there and I've never seen him. And the flats there are not that posh. Does he even have money?"

"Nah, they can't be related, they don't even look alike," Greg said. "I'd contact him, see what might be really going on. But he sounds sincere, I don't think there's any malice. He probably lives above Speedy's because he doesn't want to show off his wealth. If this Sherlock is related to Mycroft, maybe they don't even know they're on the same site. Go on and take a chance John. Sometimes you play it too safe. You did say you wanted someone exciting, well a man that wants to take you on trips sounds exciting to me!"

John thought about what Greg said. "Okay, I'll do it, I'll contact him." John clicked on his email, wsshoney1984@doyle.net, to let him know he wanted to meet him. He hit send, and he sat back in the chair and let out a breath.

"Now we wait and see what happens next with these Holmes blokes," John said. He turned to Greg, a gleam in his eye. "The game is on!"

 

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have dinner with Sebastian and Jim and there's dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm amazed this silly little fic has really taken off! Thanks for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> I based Sebastian off of Michael Fassbender. Rowrrrr!!!

_Come on, come on, turn the radio on_  
_It's Saturday and I won't be long_  
_Gotta paint my nails, put my high heels on_  
_It's Saturday and I won't be long_

 _Til I hit the dance floor_  
_Hit the dance floor_  
_I got all I need_  
_No I ain't got cash_  
_I ain't got cash_  
_But I got you baby..._

Greg was singing Sia's "Cheap Thrills" at the top of his lungs, getting ready to visit Sebastian Moran and his sugar daddy Jim Moriarty at their flat for dinner. He was dancing around in his room while buttoning up his dark blue shirt. 

John walked in, dressed in a maroon crewneck sweater over a white short-sleeved polo shirt and black jeans. He saw Greg singing and dancing and began to laugh. "Hey, should I sign you up for Britain's Got Talent?"

Greg stopped and grinned at his flatmate. "I'd probably have just as good a chance as everyone else." He walked over to his dresser, where his phone was attached to a portable speaker. He turned it down and then faced John. "You look nice."

"Thanks. I'm really interested to see what Sebastian's man looks like. He really doesn't say a whole lot about him."

"I wouldn't say a whole lot either if my boyfriend was paying for everything. You never know who'd crawl out of the woodwork asking for favors and handouts, if you know what I mean."

John nodded. "Sure do. So it'll probably be best if I don't broadcast it all over the place I've agreed to meet a potential sugar daddy of my own."

"Especially one as hot as him," Greg replied with a wink. "I'm shocked he isn't taken."

"Well, he is attracted to only the beautiful people," John replied, winking back.

Greg responded by throwing a pillow at him.

*****

After an uneventful tube ride, Greg and John were walking down Harley Street, marveling at the fancy buildings that dotted the neighborhood. There were also lots of medical offices as well. "One day, you'll have a practice here and making the big bucks," Greg told John.

"A guy can dream," John said. "But I actually sort of like our little run-down neighborhood."

Minutes later, the two were standing in front of an elegant five-story white building. Topiaries and potted plants tastefully dotted the balconies and front step. The first story was white with teal accents. "That's Sebastian and Jim's place," Greg mentioned. "Let's go in and ring the door."

They walked up the step, opened the ornate black double doors, and stepped into a short foyer. Greg went to the door on the left and pressed the bell. A few moments later, an extremely handsome young man with cropped brownish-blond hair, pale blue eyes, and a bit of scruff under his nose and chin answered. He was dressed in a black polo shirt that hugged his athletic physique, and black jeans. "Greg! John! Come in! It's so good to see you!"

"Hi Sebastian," Greg happily answered. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Anytime." Sebastian smiled and moved so the two men could go inside. The large living room was done in shades of black and cream. Several pieces of artwork hung on the wall. John didn't recognize any of the paintings but could tell they were expensive. A 60-inch television screen hung above the brick fireplace. 

"This place is gorgeous," John remarked in awe. 

"Isn't it? Jim has great taste. He was an art major in college and has a knack for interior design." Sebastian motioned to the plush furniture. "Have a seat. Jim will be out in a minute or two."

Greg and John sat side by side in armchairs. Sebastian continued to stand. "Would you like something to drink?" He waved his hand towards a back wall that had a full bar. "I also have beer in the fridge."

"I'll take a beer, whatever you have," Greg said.

"Me too," John added.

"I'll be right back." As Sebastian grabbed their drinks, Jim Moriarty entered the room. Greg and John gave him the onceover. They weren't expecting a short, slender man who appeared to be in his thirties. Jim appeared to read their expressions as he greeted them. "Ah, you thought I was a lot older right?" He smiled, a little mischievously. 

"Well, uh, yeah," Greg replied honestly. "I apologize."

"Me too," John added.

Jim held out his hand and the other two men stood. "Jim Moriarty, hi," he said. His voice was high with an Irish accent.

"Hi, I'm Greg Lestrade, and this is my flatmate John Watson." He and John shook hands with Jim.

"It's nice to meet some of Sebastian's friends. He certainly has good taste, you two are very handsome," Jim told them.

"Thank you," John smiled at Jim.

Jim motioned for them to sit down and they did. "So Greg, Sebastian told me you're interviewing a sugar daddy for a sociology class at school. Have you found one?"

Greg nodded. "Yes I have."

Jim turned to John. "Are you looking for a sugar daddy too?"

"I wasn't planning to at first, but Greg, uh...encouraged me to do it, and I've found a potential candidate. I don't even know if I'm going to be serious about it."

"Why not?" Jim asked, intently gazing at John.

"To be honest, I really don't want to rely on someone else for my bills and other things I should be taking care of on my own."

Jim chuckled. "I understand. But sometimes, isn't it nice to be kept, knowing someone there's taking care of you?"

"You have a point," John agreed.

Sebastian came back with the beers. "Jimmy honey, you want your usual?"

Jim grabbed Sebastian's hand and kissed it. "Yes, thank you Sebby."

John and Greg exchanged amused glances. _"Sebby?"_ John mouthed.

A couple of minutes later, Sebastian brought back a tumbler and handed it to Jim, who lifted his head up towards the younger man. Sebastian leaned down and kissed him. "Thank you love," Jim said. Sebastian went back to the kitchen and grabbed a beer for himself. He joined the other men, sitting next to Jim on the loveseat. Jim immediately placed a hand on Sebastian's thigh and began caressing it. 

Greg and John tried to hide their slight feelings of being uncomfortable at the display of affection, but said nothing. It was to be expected.

"Sebby is my little tiger," Jim cooed. "Do you know why I call him that?"

"I think I can guess," Greg replied dryly.

Jim laughed heartily. "Oi, you're a smart one. He's absolutely fierce in bed, aren't you babe?"

Sebastian just grinned.

"Sebby's the best bottom in all of London," Jim went on. John sputtered, nearly choking on his beer. 

"Are you okay John?" Jim asked, slightly concerned.

John coughed some more, then waved his hand dismissively. "I'm fine," he croaked. "I just wasn't expecting to learn all about your sex life before dinner."

"We hide nothing," Jim purred. 

"Apparently," Greg cracked.

Sebastian said nothing and put his head on Jim's shoulder. He was used to Jim bragging about their sexual escapades to other people. 

There was a few moments of tense silence, then Sebastian sat up. "I think it's time I started dinner. You all just sit there, the meal will be ready in about 30 minutes." He got up and padded into the kitchen.

"So, what are we having?" John asked, grateful for the change of tone.

"Chicken Marsala. It's one of Jimmy's favorites."

"It's one of mine too," John said.

"Well, I know you don't eat red meat John, so it was a no-brainer."

Jim grinned. "My Sebby's so thoughtful, isn't he?"

"Yes he is. He's a good friend," John sincerely said. As he watched Sebastian in the kitchen, he couldn't help but admit how happy he looked, and Jim appeared to be very affectionate and treated him very well. _Maybe having a sugar daddy won't be as ridiculous as I originally thought._

*****

After a delicious dinner and a dessert of lemon sorbet, Jim had turned his sound system. "Do you boys like to dance? Sebby and I do it quite a bit in the flat. I don't like him going out to clubs unless I'm with him, and generally the ones around here are so passe."

"Greg loves to dance. I'm not that great, but I do have rhythm," John told him.

"Oh yeah, I love it. It's totally my division," Greg chimed in, already beginning to move to the music.

Jim laughed and clapped his hands. "Perfect! Well, let's get this party started!" He pressed a button on the remote, and in seconds, "Stayin' Alive" by The Bee Gees started up.

"I adore this song, in fact, it's my mobile ringtone," Jim gushed. He started to dance, moving his arms in time with the music. "Sebby my sexy little tiger, come and join your daddy!"

"Just let me get these dishes in the washer and I'll be right out boss!" he cheerfully yelled.

Minutes later Sebastian was next to Jim dancing. Jim moved up behind the taller man, wrapping his arms around his waist and peppering kisses to his neck, swaying back and forth. "You've been such a good little host and a good little cook tonight. Daddy's going to reward you with a good little shag."

Jim's hand was now on Sebastian's crotch. Greg and John turned to each other, silently thinking the same thing: _That's our cue to scram._

"Hey Jim, Sebastian, thanks for inviting us over, but I think it's time we left. We don't want to put a crick in your sexy time," Greg called to them.

Jim and Sebastian were now entwined and kissing passionately. Greg and John nodded to each other and quietly left the flat, just as Barry Gibb was reaching the high note.

*****

"Wow, that Jim is a character!" Greg said, as he and John were now back in their flat. "He's a randy git!"

"Sebastian looks completely and utterly besotted though," John remarked. "I wonder if that's how it will be with me and Sherlock."

Greg grinned. "Well, there's one way to find out!" 

John booted up his laptop that sat on the kitchen table. He logged into his SugarDaddies4U profile and saw a new message from Sherlock.

_Hello John. I've been thinking about you. Here's my number, text me or give me a call. I want to meet you as soon as possible._

John looked at Greg, who gave him a thumbs up. "Go for it!"

Smiling, John took out his phone and began to type in Sherlock's number.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet in the next chapter!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have their first meeting during John's shift at Speedy's, and John makes an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secure Sherlock + happy John = good times.

_Hi Sherlock, it's John. How are you?_

**Hello John. I'm well. I'm glad you contacted me. When can I meet you?**

_I work morning shift at Speedy's tomorrow how about you come see me there?_

_I know you live above the shop. How come you've never been in?_

**Speedy's is really not my type of place if you know what I mean.**

_Yeah, I know what you mean you rich git. ;)_

**Are you winking at me John?**

_Yeah, like it? ;)_

**I do. I'll see you tomorrow morning John.**

_Okay. See you tomorrow. Goodnight Sherlock._

*****

It was a little after seven o'clock when John walked into Speedy's. Molly was already there behind the counter. No customers were in yet. John went behind the counter and grabbed his apron, putting it on. "Hi Molly. How was your date with Mike?"

"It was great. I really like him." Molly smiled as she wiped down the counter. 

"Hey listen, I need to tell you something and I don't want you getting mad."

"Is everything okay John?" Molly asked, concerned.

"Everything is fine. But I'm meeting a man here today. He lives above the shop in a flat. I met him online."

Molly broke out into a grin. "That's wonderful! But why would I be mad?"

John swallowed hard. "Well, I met him on a sugar daddy website."

Molly's eyes widened. "For real? Was it the same site where Sebastian met his man?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't even going to do anything, but Greg is interviewing one for his sociology class, and he roped me into finding one too. It started out as a joke, but it's gotten serious. He wants a relationship with me and is willing to pay for med school."

Molly smirked. "And all you have to do is provide him with cock right?"

John blushed. "Yeah. And Lord knows I'm trying to get by legitimately with this job and working at the lab, but it's still not enough. He wants to do this, and I'd be stupid not to take him up on his offer. Plus he's gorgeous."

"John, I'm not going to judge you. If this is what you want---"

"I think it is."

"Well, then I wish you all the luck and happiness. You deserve it."

John hugged his friend. "Thanks Molly. You're the best."

*****

Sherlock studied his reflection in the mirror. He didn't want to come off too intimidating or pretentious so he wore the purple shirt that was on his online profile, with a pair of fitted dark jeans. His last mate, Victor, called his purple Dolce & Gabana "the purple shirt of sex." The first time Sherlock wore it, it led to a night of hot passion with Victor. 

But after two years, Victor left Sherlock. It had nothing to do with the relationship or him. It had everything to do with Victor, who decided after years of soul-searching, to become a woman. Sherlock knew Victor had been struggling with feelings of being born the wrong gender. He told Victor he would love him even if he was a woman, but Victor knew females were not Sherlock's area. So with Sherlock's support and finances, Victor went through the counseling and all the steps leading up to his sex reassignment surgery. And Victor Trevor became Victoria Trevor. Victoria left London for New York, and was now in a loving relationship with a wealthy widow. She emailed Sherlock thanking him for all his love and assistance, and said she hoped he'd find someone else.

Sherlock smiled as he thought of John Watson. He'd come across his profile after doing a search for "male blond college students in London." He looked through tons of profiles and just when he decided to give up, he'd found John. He adored his snarky, sassy description of himself, and Sherlock just about came when he saw the picture of him with the glass of water of to his lips, looking so confident and handsome. He had to snap him up before anyone else did.

Sherlock pulled out his phone and sent a text to John letting him know he'd be down in a few minutes. It pinged back with the response "Can't wait!". Grinning like an idiot, he fluffed his curls and was out the door.

*****

John was waiting on a couple that just got out of church when Sherlock entered. The blond didn't see him at first. Sherlock spotted John though, and his heart about leaped out of his chest. He was even more hotter in person. Then John smiled, and Sherlock thought he'd melt into a puddle of goo right then and there. His smile was brilliant and bright, and it seemed to light up the entire shop.

The couple took their order and left. John finally noticed Sherlock, and he almost let out a gasp. Sherlock was _gorgeous_. He was wearing that sexy tight purple shirt, and he was tall and lean. And those eyes---they were shades of blue, green, and gray, all swirling together and beautiful.

Sherlock walked right up to John. "Hello, John. I'm Sherlock Holmes."

John's eyes and mouth opened at the same time. _Holy shit, his voice! It's bloody pure sex!_ he thought.

Sherlock furrowed his brows. "John?"

"Uh, um, uh..."

"Are you okay? You seemed to have lost your words," Sherlock said, chuckling.

"Wow," John finally got out. 

Sherlock chuckled again. "So you like what you see, I take it?"

"Oh yeah," John breathed. "You're bloody gorgeous."

"So are you." Sherlock held out his hand, and John took it. Sherlock's skin felt supple and smooth, and he marveled at how his small hand was swallowed up by Sherlock's long, elegant, large one.

"It's finally nice to meet you in person," John replied, trying to keep it together.

"I'm happy to meet you too."

"Would you like a drink? Coffee, tea? I still need to do my job," John cheerfully said.

"Coffee please, black and two sugars."

"It'll be right up. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Sherlock took the seat closest to the counter, eyes watching John like a hawk, appreciating his compact, muscular body that shifted with his movements. He'd surmised John was a lot shorter, and he was very pleased to see it was true. He was already imagining how their bodies would fit together on his bed.

John brought his coffee over. "Here you are."

"Thanks. Do you have some time to sit with me?" Sherlock asked, taking a sip.

"Yeah. We haven't been too busy today, and Molly can cover me." John sat down across from Sherlock, gazing into those multicolored eyes. "Your eyes...they're amazing."

"Heterchromia. You have it too, although yours is central. I can see tinges of brown."

"Yeah, every now and then it comes out. My sister is the same way."

"Sister?" Sherlock was curious.

"Yeah, I have an older sister. Harry, short for Harriet. She's four years older than me and works as a home health aide in Chatham. She's married to a woman named Clara who's a nurse."

"Interesting. Do you get along with her?"

"I do now. Harry used to be an alcoholic but she's been sober for two years now. She's doing great. We try and meet up when we're not busy working."

Sherlock took another sip of coffee. It wasn't the best, but sitting with John made it more palatable. "Well, you won't busy working anymore."

John was confused. "Huh?"

Sherlock laughed. "Oh come on John. Do you really think I'd let you continue to work here at Speedy's? As I told you, I'd be taking care of you. You won't have to work at all. I'll be paying for your school, your clothes, I'll feed you, and you'll come live with me."

John was blown away. "Wait, I just wanted someone to help me with tuition. Everything else I can provide for on my own---"

"Nonsense John. I want to do this. I want you." Sherlock looked down at his lap. "I've been lonely for a while, ever since my last boyfriend left, and it's time I found someone else to share my life and my money with, and I want that to be you. Don't think you'd be taking advantage of me John. It's what I want, believe me."

Before John realized what he was doing, he reached out and gently stroked Sherlock's arm with his thumb. "It's just that, I've been on my own ever since I was seventeen, I don't know anything else. I don't know how to be spoiled and pampered."

Sherlock looked up, now smiling. "Maybe it's time you were."

John nodded. Perhaps it was time he let someone else care for him. "Maybe you're right."

"When do you get off work?"

"One thirty."

"I'd like to take you to lunch and then to see my flat. Is that okay?"

John broke out into a huge grin. "It's more than okay."

*****

After a wonderful lunch at an elegant restaurant called Benedict's, Sherlock took John back to Baker Street to see his flat. John was surprised (and secretly delighted) that it wasn't posh and spotless. He laughed at the skull on the mantle and the cow skull mounted on the wall wearing a pair of headphones. He liked that it had a fireplace. 

Sherlock showed him the bathroom, his bedroom, and the spare room upstairs. "I won't expect you to sleep in my bed right away, that is if you don't want to right now. You can use the spare," Sherlock had told him.

John was grateful that Sherlock was giving him the option. "That's very thoughtful of you."

"The landlady is a lovely older woman, Mrs. Hudson. She's very tolerant and dropped the price of the rent even though I could afford it. I introduced her to a wonderful gentlemen I met at a fundraiser and the two have been together ever since, so as a favor I'm paying much less than the flat is worth. Which frees up more to spend on you."

"This place has a lot of character, I like it. My friend Sebastian is living with a sugar daddy too, and their flat is very elegant and clean as a whistle. Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful, but I prefer things to be a little lived-in."

"So does that mean you'll move in with me John?" Sherlock gazed at him with hopeful eyes.

John smiled at him, and Sherlock's chest grew tight and tingly at the sight. "Yes, I'll move in with you. I'll have to let Greg know. We're on a month to month lease."

Sherlock clapped his hands happily. "Wonderful! We're going to have fun together." He pulled John into an embrace. John stood rigid for a few seconds, but then returned the hug, discovering Sherlock was a lot more muscular than he looked, and he liked the feel of him.

Sherlock pressed a small kiss to John's lips. John realized he enjoyed the tender spot of affection so he kissed Sherlock back. The older man was surprised at first, then grinned again. "Oh John, I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg & Mycroft's meeting is up next!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg meets Mycroft, expecting to conduct his interview. What he gets is something entirely else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Mycroft is slightly OOC in this story so he's a lot warmer than in the show.

Morning classes flew by like a breeze, and now Greg was back at home, getting ready for his meeting with Mycroft Holmes. He was looking forward to meeting the man.

Yesterday while John was out with Sherlock, Greg had emailed Mycroft asking when and where would be a good time to meet, and gave the older gentleman his phone number. Mycroft had called right away and the two ended up chatting for over an hour. Greg thought Mycroft’s voice was posh and attractive; Mycroft said Greg’s accent was sexy and invited him to dinner after their interview. Greg readily agreed. He needed a distraction now that John would be moving out of their flat to live with Sherlock.

Greg at first couldn’t believe John said yes so quickly to Sherlock’s invitation to move in with him, but he was the one that pushed John into finding a sugar daddy in the first place. Now he had one, and the two developed an instant connection. Greg was happy for his friend but couldn’t help feel a tinge of jealousy. He shrugged it off though. He would advertise for another flatmate, and he would still be friends with John, especially when he learned Mycroft and Sherlock were brothers. Greg had asked him and Mycroft confirmed it. The two had a falling out last year but were now patching up their relationship, and Mycroft said he was happy Sherlock found someone else.

Greg buttoned up his white dress shirt and slipped on his gray sportcoat that matched his trousers. He opted not to wear a tie. He grabbed his briefcase that held his mini tape recorder, legal pad, and pen, and went into the living room. Mycroft was sending a car to take him to the club after Greg said he could get there by tube. “Nonsense, Gregory, it will be much better if my driver picks you up and brings you here,” Mycroft said.

Greg wasn’t going to argue any further. He’d never been chauffeured before. And the way Mycroft said his full name was pretty damn hot.

Greg went downstairs to wait for the car, trying hard to keep his nerves at bay. He prayed he wouldn’t blow it. His grade depended on it.

*****  
The Diogenes Club looked exactly like Greg thought it would be, with wood panels, furniture in shades of brick red and green, low mood lighting, and there was a piano player in the main lounge doing jazz tunes. The men there were mostly middle aged or older, dressed in expensive suits and looked every like the members of London’s upper class.

When Greg walked in, heads turned to see who this young, handsome man was. He even got a few winks, and one slightly inebriated man old enough to be Greg’s grandfather tried to get him to go home with him. “Sorry, I already have a prior engagement,” Greg told him.

Before Granddad could put more moves on him, an attractive brown-haired woman in her thirties dressed in a black pencil skirt, light blue blouse and black blazer approached him. “Gregory Lestrade?”

“That’s me,” Greg replied, trying to make a good impression.

“Follow me. Mr. Holmes is waiting for you in his suite,” the woman answered in a clipped tone.

Greg followed her. Granddad was still persistent though. “I say Miss Anthea, you think Mycroft will let me have some fun time with this one when he’s done?”

“I highly doubt it Mr. Mott. You should be lucky you’re still allowed in here after your striptease last Saturday night,” Anthea replied curtly.

Greg’s mouth opened in shock but Anthea just smiled wryly. “These men may be old Mr. Lestrade but they’re not dead. Now if you’ll come with me.”

Greg followed Anthea, hearing the click clack of her stiletto heels as she led him to an elevator marked PRIVATE. _How do women wear those shoes?_ Greg thought to himself, glad he was a man.

The two rode in silence as the elevator ascended to the third floor. The doors opened into a long hallway with plush hunter green carpeting. “This way,” Anthea gently commanded.

She led him down the hall to a set of dark wooden double doors with ornate brass handles. Anthea rapped twice, and in a few moments the doors opened, revealing Mycroft Holmes, dressed in a black and white pinstripe jacket, matching trousers and maroon silk button down shirt. Greg nearly gasped at the sight. Mycroft looked nothing like his brother, but he did share his younger sibling's height and body shape. “Ah Gregory. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and Greg shook it.

‘Hello Mr. Holmes. Thank you for meeting with me.”

Mycroft smiled. “No thank you. Come in.” He motioned for Greg to enter.

Anthea nodded and turned to walk back down the hall. Mycroft closed the doors, allowing Greg to take in the room. It was ornately decorated, with antique furniture and more brass fixtures. A large three paneled window took up most of the wall on the right, allowing for a breathtaking view of central London.

“This is very nice Mr. Holmes. Do you live here?” Greg asked.

“Yes, and please call me Mycroft.” He walked over to a minibar that stood against the wall opposite the window. “Would you like a drink Gregory?”

“Uh, no thank you. But please don’t abstain on my account.”

Mycroft chuckled and poured himself a brandy. “Please sit anywhere you’d like.”

Greg chose a brown leather armchair on the left. A coffee table was there and Greg laid his briefcase on top. He opened it up, taking out the recorder, pad, and pen. “So professional Gregory, I like that,” Mycroft said in a flirty tone.

Greg smiled and tried not to blush. “Thank you.”

Mycroft sat in the chair opposite Greg. “So, tell me more about your sociology project. It sounded fascinating on your profile.”

Greg cleared his throat. “Well, we’re studying societal subcultures, and how the people in those subcultures live, creating their own unique values and rules. Professor McCann instructed us to pick someone from a subculture of our choice to interview, and to put together a presentation set around the interview. As I wrote, I won’t use your name and I’m going to be very discreet. If you don’t want to answer anything, you don’t have to. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Fascinating. But why a sugar daddy?” Mycroft wanted to know.

“One of my friends, who also attends St. Bart’s, has a sugar daddy. He found him on the same site we’re on. I got curious and wanted to know a little bit more about the idea of what it’s like to have someone take care of someone else financially, and why they do it.”

Mycroft shot Greg a coy grin. “So this is just for your class, you really don’t want a sugar daddy to look after you?”

“Well, I uh, I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it. It does have its benefits.” Greg shifted in his seat, trying not to appear uncomfortable.

“You don’t want to come off as being a gold digger,” Mycroft flatly said.

“Yes. At first, when I decided to do this project, I was open to seeing if this interview would lead to something else. But now, seeing you and talking to you in person, I can’t help but feel a little guilty. I’ve never taken advantage of anyone,” Greg admitted.

“I like your honesty Gregory. It’s very admirable...and very attractive.” Mycroft got up and went to Greg. Before the younger man knew it, Mycroft leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.

Greg was rendered speechless. He gazed up at Mycroft, who was grinning down at him. “I enjoyed that very much,” he told Greg.

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“You know Gregory, I think we should turn this into a business dinner. Have you ever been to Benedict’s?”

“No. My friend John went yesterday with your brother. He really liked it.”

“Well then, I think it’s time you were introduced to some fine haute cuisine. I’ll call for a driver to take us.” Mycroft walked to a phone that sat on a small desk by the double doors. “Anthea? Please get a driver ready for myself and Gregory. We’re going to Benedict’s.”

Greg rapidly grew excited. He thought this was just going to be a simple interview. He didn’t expect a kiss (which was amazing) or to be treated to a fancy dinner. _Thank God I didn’t go with furries after all, or I’d probably be fondled by some guy in a bear suit._

“Let’s go downstairs and wait,” Mycroft said. Greg stood and met him and the two walked out of the suite.

When they got to the elevator, Mycroft took Greg’s hands in his. “I’m really looking forward to this collaboration with you Gregory. I hope when this is all said and done, you’ll want to spend time with me outside of this school project. Would you be amenable to that?”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say Mycroft. Part of me wants to keep this professional, but part of me wants to explore this and see where it goes. Maybe we can get together after the project is done? That is, if you’re willing to wait. I’m sure there are many who would jump at the chance to be with you.”

“There may be many who want to be with me, but I’m a very picky man. The moment I saw your picture and read your request I knew you would be perfect. So yes, I’m willing to wait. You seem like someone who would appreciate everything I’d give you.”

“Oh I would,” Greg replied, fighting to quell the butterflies flying around in his stomach.

“Well then, that’s settled. “As soon as this is all done, you’re mine.” Mycroft leaned in to kiss him again and then pressed the elevator button. When it arrived, the two got in, and exchanged huge grins as the doors closed.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and sexy times with John and Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do a little time jump in this one. I'm planning to write probably about two or three more chapters after this.

John had adjusted nicely to living with Sherlock. The first week he was there the two were doing their own things. John had classes in the morning and then would come home to study and do assignments. Sherlock spent his time purchasing new clothes for John, buying John’s favorite foods, along with assisting his mother with her charity work. His mother had not been to keen on both Sherlock and Mycroft being sugar daddies, but she never interfered in their personal lives. The two were happy and that’s all that mattered.

The second week however, things completely changed.

It was that second week that John and Sherlock became intimate for the first time. As in getting to know each other in the biblical sense.

John and Sherlock up to then exchanged kisses and cuddles (and John quickly grew to learn that Sherlock LOVED cuddling) and it was nice. John knew Sherlock wanted more, but he was reluctant at first to offer himself up, as it were, to the older man. He didn’t want to come off as an over-eager gigolo.

It was Friday. John had suffered through a stressful morning in class, thanks to a shouting match between an arrogant student and the professor during John’s medical ethics course. The professor had singled out John, shouting “why can’t you be more like Mister Watson, who always turns his assignments on time, manages to achieve a passing grade and can argue with me without sounding like an emotionally stunted manchild?”

John had turned beet red and the student, who was sitting right next to him, shot so many daggers at him John thought if he’d been stabbed, his body would resemble a sponge.

After class ended John tried to scramble away but the student caught up to him and accused him outright of sleeping with the professor. John laughed, and then slapped him across the face with a warning to stay away from him.

Luckily that was his last class of the day. Sherlock was not happy and told John he could see to it that the student was removed from campus, but John said it was fine, he’d already put the incident out of his mind, but if it happened again, Sherlock could use his influence. Apparently the Holmes name was prominent in England, and Sherlock’s mother had donated quite a bit of money to St. Bart’s.

John had made plans with his friends to go clubbing that night. Clubs weren’t his favorite place to hang out, but it would be nice to get out and have some fun. He even invited Sherlock, who just made a face so John knew clubs were a no-no.

******

John was dressed in a snug pair of camouflage trousers, a fitted white T-shirt that showed off his rugby player’s muscular chest, combat boots, and his dad’s dog tags. He didn’t think anything of his outfit. Then he walked into the living room.

Sherlock was lying on the sofa in a pair of blue pajamas and a gray T-shirt, reading one of John’s textbooks. Sherlock liked doing that and John thought it was cute.

“Hey Sher, I’m going out now. If it’s too boring, I’ll probably be back before 12:30,” John called to him.

“Okay John. I’ll see you lat---”

Sherlock never finished his sentence after seeing the blond in his trousers and dog tags, which shone under the lights. His mouth flew open, his pupils began to dilate, and his heart was pounding. Within seconds, he sported a very impressive erection.

John took notice of it and grinned. “At ease soldier.”

Sherlock got even harder which John also noticed.

“So, you’ve got a thing for military men huh?” John’s eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“Uh, um…” was all Sherlock could get out.

“I take that as a yes.” John moved closer so he was leaning over the taller man. John bent down and placed a chaste kiss on Sherlock’s lips. “You’ve got good taste then. These are my dad’s trousers and dog tags. He was in the Army, served in Desert Storm.” John kissed him again.

Sherlock lunged, pulling John down on top of him. The dog tags clinking as they smacked against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock was now kissing John fiercely, tongue pushing its way into John’s mouth. John met him measure for measure.

Once the two broke for air, Sherlock was panting and John slightly out of breath. “Guess I’ll have to let my friends know I’m not going to the club. I’ve got a date with a very gorgeous civilian.”

*****

After John sent a text saying his plans changed, Sherlock grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down the hall to his bedroom. “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you at Speedy’s,” he growled.

John said nothing. He was going to let Sherlock lead this, let him tell John what he wanted.

Once the two were in the bedroom, Sherlock pushed John towards the edge of the bed and began to strip him. John let him remove the shirt. “You’re keeping the dog tags on,” Sherlock breathed, fondling the metal.

Sherlock unzipped John's trousers. John sat down on the edge of the bed and straightened his legs out towards Sherlock. “You’re going to have to unlace my boots if you want them off.”

Sherlock growled again and quickly began to take off John’s boots. He toed off his socks and flung everything aside. John lifted his hips and Sherlock pulled off the trousers with such ferocity that he thought they were going to rip in half.

Sherlock saw that John was wearing a tight pair of red pants, cock hardening against the fabric. “Red pants?” he mused, chuckling.

John began to blush and soon he was as red as his underwear. “Gag gift from Harry.”

“Well, I adore them and I know what I’m buying you next,” Sherlock said with arousal. He began to palm John through the pants, making the blond even harder. Soon John found himself sprawled out on the bed, Sherlock on top of him, planting warm, wet kisses on his face, on his neck, down his tanned torso, and then he reached the top of his pants.

John quivered in anticipation as Sherlock slowly and tortuously pulled them down. Finally, John was naked in front of Sherlock. The first time Sherlock had seen him completely au naturel.

“You’re beautiful John. Like a fine work of art.” He slowly reached his hand out and began to stroke John’s cock, which twitched at the warm touch. John let out a small moan. “That feels really good.”

Sherlock smiled and began to increase the strokes. John was shuddering and moaning within a few moments, knowing he wouldn’t last soon.

Sherlock sensed this and abruptly stopped. “Sherlock what’s wrong, why did you stop?” John asked, concerned.

“You’re not coming unless I’m in you,” Sherlock replied matter-of-fact.

John nodded rapidly. “Hell yes. Do it! This is going to be so much better than dodging drunk and sweaty bodies at the club.”

“I need to get you ready.” Sherlock, still fully clothed, went to his nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube.

“Hey, you need to get naked too,” John said. “I need to see you.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Anything you want John. I’m glad you’re so responsive to this.” He set the lube down on the bed and quickly made short shrift of his top and pajama bottoms. John coyly grinned when he saw Sherlock had no pants on. “Cheeky git,” he said affectionately. “But you’re gorgeous Sher. You’re like a Greek god.”

“Well, perhaps this Greek god should take you to Greece so you can worship me properly,” Sherlock replied huskily, picking up the lube and coating his fingers. He bent down in front of John, who opened his legs. “Good John, very good.”

Sherlock put a towel under John’s hips and with one finger, carefully started to push inside John, who groaned at the cool probing. John had been with a couple other guys before, and at one time dated a lovely girl named Mary his first year of uni.. All three of his lovers had been from different schools, earning him the nickname “Three Colleges Watson.” But it had been a while since his last sexual encounter and he nearly forgot how it felt to be scissored.

Sherlock was a patient lover and methodically worked John open. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. He was used to Victor not needing any preparation, but this was different. It was also a lot more erotic and affectionate and he was thrilled John trusted him so completely and wanted this.

After Sherlock got three fingers in with no problem, and John was gyrating and moaning at his touch, he smiled, removed his digits, and coated his cock with lube. “You ready sweetheart?” he asked John.

“Yeah. I can’t wait for this. I know it’s going to be bloody amazing.”

John lifted his hips a little higher to meet Sherlock’s pelvis. John clutched the bedsheets in both hands as Sherlock placed two hands on either side of John’s hips and gently eased into him. “Woah,” John breathed.

Sherlock grunted a little as he slid in. John was still a little tight but it didn’t take long for him to be fully seated. He began to slowly move. “You feel wonderful.” He didn’t want to rush this at all. He wanted to savor this first time with John.

John had other ideas though. “Faster!” he cried. “Please!”

Sherlock at first continued his pace. But John was wiggling his hips and pulling Sherlock closer to him. “Sherlock please, you feel bloody good!” he shouted.

That was all she wrote and soon Sherlock was giving into John’s wants, his own desires building and building as he thrust faster and faster, the clinking sound of the dog tags pushing him over the edge.

They both came at the same time, crying out each other’s name in unison. Sherlock collapsed beside John, giggling and high from the afterglow. John turned to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Jesus that was spectacular.”

“I’m far from Jesus but I agree, it was spectacular,” Sherlock quipped.

“Oi, you beautiful berk,” John playfully teased, kissing him again.

“So, better than the club?” Sherlock turned to John, grinning madly.

“Much better than the club.”

“We’ll get cleaned up and rest for a bit, and then how about we do it again?” Sherlock suggested with a wink.

“Oh God yes.”

*****

Sherlock was having the time of his life with John, who’d now quit both his jobs. With John only having to concentrate on classes, his free time was spent with Sherlock, who took him to all the fancy restaurants around London, and they also spent some weekends at his cottage in Sussex. The two enjoyed taking walks together and visiting the shops in town.

John discovered Sherlock’s fascination with bees, and he used some of his savings to purchase a set of handkerchiefs with bees on them, and he also had Sherlock’s initials monogrammed on the fabric. When John presented them to Sherlock, the older man was moved to tears. “You didn’t have to do this for me John. I don’t require gifts from you.”

“Yeah, well I wanted to do this. You’ve been so good to me, and I’m pretty sure I love you, so accept these as a token of my love and appreciation.”

“I love you too. And then Sherlock proceeded to snog him for at least a good five minutes.

*****

Spring break had finally arrived, and Sherlock asked John where he’d like to go. “It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re having fun together,” John told him. “I’d never had a proper spring break vacation, I always stayed here and worked.”

So Sherlock booked a trip to the Dominican Republic. The two would be staying at an all-inclusive resort. He chose a private beach side villa nestled on the outer edges of the resort. He’d wanted to take John to the house in France, but Mycroft had cornered him and asked if he could use it, wanting to take Greg there. Sherlock agreed. There would be plenty of times for France, and he told Mycroft he had dibs on it for the week after John’s May term ended.

John was ecstatic to find out he was going to the Dominican Republic, and he thanked Sherlock with a long afternoon of lazy lovemaking.

*****

Spring break was occurring right before Easter, so while John was at Tesco’s picking up ingredients to make chicken Marsala for he and Sherlock (“I want to make home cooked meals for us from time to time and you deserve it”), he saw an adult bunny kit that consisted of white ears with pink inside trim, a white bow-tie, and matching cotton tail in the clearance bin. Grinning, he added that to his shopping list.

*****

John was in awe the moment he and Sherlock entered the resort. It was like something out of a fantasy. The beaches were bright and sparkling, the water clear blue, and the villa Sherlock rented was out-of-this-world, with a huge king-sized bed, full separate bath with jacuzzi, a large living area, and a private front porch where they could sit and watch the waves. “Sherlock, this is beyond my wildest dreams. We’re going to have a blast!”

*****

The two took advantage of all the activities the resort had to offer. They snorkeled, they did scuba diving, they water-skied, they swam in the pool, they surfed in the ocean (and John found Sherlock to be an excellent surfer), and they also took a sunset dinner cruise. The two returned to their villa exhausted, collapsing in each other’s arms as the calming sounds of the ocean lulled them to sleep.

*****

The last night of their vacation, John took out the bunny kit. Sherlock was taking a walk on the beach, and John feigned an excuse he wanted to take a shower before dinner. The two decided to have room service bring dinner so they could spend their final evening alone before boarding the plane back to London tomorrow afternoon.

John stood in front of the full-size mirror in the bedroom, laughing. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he wanted to show Sherlock how much he loved him and appreciated him. He had an inkling Sherlock didn’t get much affection when he was younger, so he wanted to make up for it.

“John, I’m back!” he heard Sherlock call. “Want to order room service now?”

“I’ll be out in a few seconds love!” John replied back.

“Okay!”

John straightened his bow tie, patted his cotton tail attached to his tight white booty shorts, and put on his sexiest pout. He left the bedroom and walked into the living room.

“Happy early Easter Sherlock,” John purred.

Sherlock turned and when he saw John, he nearly fell to the floor. “John...my God...you’re absolutely delicious.”

John winked at him. “I thought room service could wait for a bit while I let you do your own private egg hunt.”

Sherlock was on him in a matter of seconds.

*****

John was wearing just the bunny ears, bouncing up and down in Sherlock’s lap, the chair creaking with their frantic movements. “This is the best Easter present I could ever get,” Sherlock said breathlessly, tightly holding onto John’s hips as he moaned and groaned with pleasure at feeling John rocking back and forth on him. “Sex is definitely better than chocolate.”

“Mmm hmm,” John purred, closing his eyes as the hotness inside him began to build up, flooding his body with intense warmth.

Sherlock came with a loud cry, exploding inside of John, who quickly followed with an orgasm of his own, spilling all over Sherlock’s bare chest. John stopped moving and sat there for a moment, allowing them to relax and catch their breath. Sherlock pressed his face to John’s chest, ignoring the cooling stickiness and covering his skin with kisses. “Love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too.” John smiled, took off his bunny ears, and let them drop to the floor. He slowly removed himself from Sherlock with a loud plop, and Sherlock moaned as he felt the warm skin slide off.

“I’m going to get a washcloth to clean us up and then we’ll order dinner. Did you see anything that looked good on the menu?” John headed for the bathroom, wetting a cloth and returning to Sherlock, carefully and tenderly cleaning his chest before moving to his own.

“I saw blackened salmon with red mashed potatoes and broccoli that looked promising,” Sherlock answered, feeling refreshed at the damp cloth moving in circles on his skin.

“That sounds great. I’ll call and order it.”

“And ask for a bottle of their best red wine,” Sherlock added, getting up and wrapping his long arms around John. “This has been the best trip I’ve ever been on. I don’t want it to end.”

John leaned back against Sherlock, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Me neither, but it won’t be long before I’m out of class and I’ll be on summer break, and we’ll be in France. I’m looking forward to that.”

John moved so he was facing Sherlock and embraced him lovingly. “You’re the best, you know that?” He kissed him again, this time on the lips.

“I have been told that before, yes,” Sherlock said, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

John laughed. “You git.” He kissed him again. “Let’s get into those plush bathrobes and then I’ll order dinner. It’s a good thing we’re allowed to take them home, I could live in them twenty-four seven.”

“I’d love for you to wear nothing but a bathrobe. And if public nudity was allowed, I’d love it even more for you to walk around naked. You have a beautiful body.” Sherlock placed kisses up and down John’s neck.

“So do you.” John broke away and headed for the phone. “Go get the robes, please love?”

Sherlock smiled and nodded, allowing John to order their dinner. Once Sherlock returned, the two put on the robes and sat down on the sofa, arms around each other. Just then, a crackle of thunder ripped through the sky.

“Looks like we’re in for a storm,” John mused.

“That means we’re in here the rest of the night,” Sherlock said with a grin.

“Fine by me.” John turned to him and kissed him, and Sherlock pushed him back on the sofa.

*****

The storm raged on as the two ate their dinner, drank a few glasses of wine, and then headed for the bed. The two were on their phones for a bit; John updated his status on Facebook to say he was “sad to be leaving the Dominican Republic, but blissfully happy to be returning home with the man he loved.” John had made his relationship with Sherlock public with his friends and he didn’t care. This was more than being kept by a sugar daddy, it was love. He wasn't just here for the money anymore.

Sherlock turned out the lights and snuggled closer to John, who buried himself in the covers of their super-comfortable bed. Soon, the two were asleep, and come tomorrow, the ocean would be a pleasant memory for them as they returned home to London.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Mycroft and Greg's French retreat!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft in France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mystrade fans have come out in full force for this story!
> 
> This chapter sadly contains no real sexy sex as Greg is keeping Mycroft at bay for right now, but their time will come! In the meantime, please enjoy some fluffy romance and a tiny bit of bathtime smut.

"Gregory, how would you like to go to France for your spring break?"

Greg goes agog after he hears Mycroft's question. He's never been to France. The closest he's gotten to experiencing anything French is when he french kissed Phillip Anderson during a spirited game of Truth or Dare during a college party, and spirited was the right word since everyone was trashed during it.

"Well, uh, um, yeah I guess so?" He's still a little in shock and can't use his words right now.

Mycroft laughed. "That's not the reaction I was expecting."

"Sorry My, but I don't get to hear questions like that everyday. Of course I'd love to go to France." Greg placed a chaste kiss on Mycroft's cheek.

The two had been seeing each other regularly ever since their first meeting at The Diogenes Club. Greg had learned a lot about the older man during their time together. Mycroft had worked as a British government official since graduating from Oxford but retired from the position six years ago. He had grown weary of the long hours, the all-day meetings, the negotiations, the constant business trips that left him tired and stressed out. But his salary, combined with a more than generous inheritance willed to him after his father's passing, left him able to live very comfortably, and he used some of his money to start up the club.

Then he found himself lonely. He wanted a companion, someone to help him spend his fortune, someone to travel with. So he joined SugarDaddies4U. That's where he met Anthea, but they quickly discovered she would better off working for him than sleeping with him.

Greg has taken copious notes and has quite a few recordings of Mycroft describing his life. He's a fascinating man, and Greg has quickly grown attracted to him, but has chosen to hold out on sex for right now until he's done with his project. His professor knows Greg is dating him as part of the project, and advised him to be careful.

*****  
The Holmes family retreat in Aix in Provence is a lovely sprawling Victorian home nestled in the countryside. It has a small inground pool in back and beautifully kept gardens featuring a multitude of roses, lilac, and other pretty blossoms. "It's like something out of a Disney movie," Greg said when he first laid eyes upon it. "I can imagine Belle sitting on that stone bench reading a book while cute little mice sing to her."

Mycroft laughed. He loved Greg's sense of humor. There were a lot of things he loved about him. His warm brown eyes, his infectious smile, his bronzed skin thanks to being outside playing rugby, and his athletic body. He so wants to be on top of that body, but he's respecting Greg's wishes to abstain until his project is complete. Greg makes him feel alive and he doesn't want to screw things up.

Mycroft took his hand. "Come on, let's go inside and I'll give you the grand tour. The driver will bring our bags in."

*****  
The house is open, airy, and welcoming, with walls painted in shades of cream, mauve, and mint green. The kitchen has a black and white tiled floor and a large window over the sink that has a view of the pool. Greg imagines himself living here permanently, doing laps in the pool while Mycroft sits in a lounge chair sipping expensive French wine. When he tells Mycroft his fantasy, Mycroft wonders if one day it will come true. He wouldn't mind making the retreat his actual home and if Greg was here to share it with him, even better. He knows Sherlock doesn't want it, his brother will retire to his Sussex cottage. Sherlock wanted to take his new man, John Watson, here for spring break but the two compromised, and Sherlock is coming with John in May. Mycroft is happy they're on good terms again. He's forgotten why they fell out in the first place.

"Hey My, I'm going to relax in my bedroom for a bit, get used to the new atmosphere. Want to join me?" Greg cheerfully asks.

"Most definitely," Mycroft answers and he follows Greg upstairs to his guestroom. Mycroft didn't want to scare him off so he gave Greg his own room, a large guest suite with its own bath.

"This is gorgeous," Greg breathes as takes his shoes and socks off and hops on the queen sized bed. "So comfortable. I may not want to leave it!"

Mycroft lays beside him and Greg rests his head on his chest. The older man runs a gentle hand through Greg's hair. "I hear tomorrow is going to be warm, so you'll want to make good use of the pool."

"Mmm, sounds great," Greg hums. He closes his eyes, Mycroft's hand massaging his scalp feeling wonderful.

"Do you just want to stay here the rest of the day?" Mycroft asks. "I can make us dinner."

"That's fine with me. I'm going to take a bath later. The tub's definitely big enough for two."

Mycroft grins like a schoolboy. He and Greg have bathed and showered together, and he loves those moments between the two. It definitely makes up for the lack of intimacy. Greg allows everything but penetration and Mycroft takes advantage of it.

It isn't long before Greg is lulled to sleep by the cozy bed and Mycroft's loving touch. Mycroft closes his eyes and he soon joins his boyfriend in slumberland.

*****

Greg enters the kitchen to a delicious smell of meat. He sees Mycroft wearing a red apron that says "Embrassez le Cuisinier" on it. He knows that's French for "kiss the cook," and chuckles. So he moves next to him, gives him a big smile, and kisses his cheek. "I'm doing what your apron wants."

Mycroft laughed. "I'm happy you know some French."

"There are some things I can remember from school," Greg replied with a wink.

"Have a seat Gregory. The pork chops will be ready in a few minutes."

Mycroft is making a dinner of broiled pork chops with sauteed veggies, and baked potatoes. A bottle of red Chatev de la Galinere sits on the table along with two glasses.

"It smells good My, I can't wait to eat," Greg complimented him.

"I will get you out to some really excellent restaurants while we're here."

"Can we visit The Eiffel Tower?" Greg asks excitedly, his eyes gleaming. "I know it's cliche, but I can't be in France and not see it."

"Gregory, we're going to do anything you want this week," Mycroft replied brightly.

"Thanks." Greg beams at Mycroft. "Right now, what I want is to enjoy this dinner and then soak in that nice tub with you later."

"I'm certainly looking forward to the latter," Mycroft said, growing warm and tingly at the thought of being hot and soapy next to his handsome uni student.

*****

Greg's a bit tipsy thanks to several glasses of wine. His face has taken on an adorable blush and he calls to Mycroft from his bathroom. "Oh My," he sings, "I'm lonely. This tub is too big for me to be in it by myself."

Mycroft chuckles as he eagerly sheds his clothes and sprints into the bathroom. Greg is sitting in the middle of the tub, but he hasn't turned on the water. "Gregory, I think you're forgetting something."

"Whazzat?" he slurs. Mycroft can't help but think how cute he sounds when he's a bit sloshed.

"The hot water."

Mycroft reaches for the faucet and water pours out. "Ahh!" Greg cries when the warm liquid flows over his body. Then he grins stupidly and leans back a little. "Feels good."

Mycroft grins back and reaches for a bottle of bubble bath. He opens it up, pours some into the cap and releases it into the water. He pulls the stopper up. Soon there are lavender scented suds foaming in the tub. "Feels good _and_ smells good," Greg remarks. The lavender is beginning to clear his mind a bit.

Mycroft gingerly steps in and sits down across from Greg. "Hmm, total bliss," he concurs, closing his eyes. A few seconds later, he reaches around Greg to turn off the faucet. 

Greg places his legs in Mycroft's lap and leans back against the tub, letting the warm water and lavender scent put him into a state of serenity. He can feel his brain lift out of the wine-induced fog. "I really like this My."

Mycroft is trying very hard not to get aroused by having Greg's feet so close to his crotch, but he is utterly failing.

Greg can feel the hardness up against the soles of his feet and he chuckles. "You're very responsive." He begins to gently massage Mycroft's cock with one of his feet. 

"Gregory can you please not...oh, that feels splendid," he breathes.

Greg keeps up the pace, and the combination of his warm wet feet and warm soapy water begin to cause tingles and jolts all over Mycroft's body. "Gregory dear, a few more strokes and this water is going to be more milky than we want."

Greg spreads his legs so they're now on either side of Mycroft's legs. "Sorry My, but that felt amazing."

"Oh it certainly did darling, but I want to come with you when we're not in the water, but tangled together on a bed."

"Turn around, I want your back against my chest," Greg told him.

Mycroft did so, and Greg wrapped his arms around him. He pressed a kiss to his cheek. "How does this feel?"

"Heavenly." Mycroft slid down so his head was resting on the top of Greg's chest, and he closed his eyes. "I could fall asleep like this."

"Me too, but then we'd be wrinkly prunes and our skin drier than the Sahara desert."

Mycroft chuckled. "I do love your sense of humor."

"I love it too," Greg joked.

Mycroft placed a hand over Greg's right one and squeezed. "This is going to be a wonderful week."

*****

The rest of the week was filled with eating, a visit to the palace of Versailles, browsing the shops of Paris, sampling fine Easter chocolates, and a trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower, where Greg took a selfie of the two of them. Mycroft generally hated having his picture taken, but seeing him next to Greg, who was so happy and lively, he felt like he'd been renewed. He started to feel grateful they hadn't slept together just yet. When the time would come, it would feel even more special. _Good things come to those who wait_ , he thought.

Sadly, their time in France was coming to an end. Greg wanted to spend their last night at the house. It was a warm evening, and he and Mycroft were in the pool, sipping champagne, talking about how much fun they had. "We'll come back again this summer, and we'll visit one of those nude beaches I keep hearing about. Maybe John and Sherlock could join us."

"We'll come on different days as I have no desire to see my brother or your friend in their birthday suits," Mycroft insisted.

Greg just laughed and gave him a kiss. "Anything for you. I really appreciate you bringing me here. This is the most fun I've had that didn't involve a pub."

Later, the two were dried off and were relaxing in Mycroft's bed. "Can I sleep here tonight?" Greg asked. 

"Yes, of course. I would enjoy that." Mycroft felt like jumping for joy, finally having Greg next to him and close.

It didn't take long for the two to be snuggled together, under the soft covers. _"Bonne nuit,"_ Mycroft whispered lovingly to Greg.

"Goodnight to you too My," Greg whispered back just as affectionately.

Soon, both men were sound asleep, Mycroft spooning Greg from behind, as a gentle rain began to fall.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know pretty much nil when it comes to anything French, so thank God for Google!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmes brothers go clubbing with their boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for hot guys dancing to Eurodisco.

It was a pleasant Friday afternoon. Greg was sitting outside on a bench in the courtyard at St. Bart's, going over his notes for his sociology project. Everything had been going swimmingly. He was now living with Mycroft at his suite at The Diogenes Club, his dusty old flat a distant memory. He and John would meet up often between classes and at their favorite pubs to talk about their men. They still wanted to do a double date but couldn't think of where to go. The brothers were not pub fans, and John told him that when he tried to introduce Sherlock to _Star Wars_ and _Star Trek_ , he reacted like he was being sent to the firing squad. Even being told that the villain in _Star Trek: Into Darkness_ looked just like him didn't help. So cinemas were out. Mycroft rarely watched movies or telly, and when he did, it was usually tuned in to documentaries on history and art. 

If that was the only difference they all shared, Greg was happy with it. He was thrilled he and John were getting on so well with their men. John and Sherlock had declared their love for each other weeks ago and were shagging like rabbits on the first day of spring. Greg had not told Mycroft he loved him or had shagged him yet, but Greg did love him and he was sure Mycroft felt the same way. Just a few more weeks left to go, and the two would be together completely.

A familiar voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Hey Greg!" He looked up to see Sebastian Moran coming towards him. "Hey Sebastian!" Greg greeted.

Sebastian sat down next to his friend and dropped his bag on the ground. "Gorgeous day isn't it?"

"Yeah, thank God. It's been raining so much this week I should be a duck!" Greg joked.

Sebastian gazed at the watch on Greg's wrist. "New Rolex I see. Your Mycroft's been treating you quite nicely."

"Yes he has. I still can't believe this is happening. In less than two months I've moved out of my dingy flat into a fancy suite at a posh club, I've been to France, I've got new clothes, and now this Rolex. It's nice being taken care of, but you know what? Mycroft could collect garbage and I'd be happy. He's just a great guy."

"Sounds like you're in love mate," Sebastian replied.

Greg nodded. "I am."

"Do you two have any plans for tomorrow night?" Sebastian asked.

"No, but Mycroft will probably come up with something last minute."

"Well, I have just the thing." Sebastian grinned and opened up his bag, pulling out what looked like two tickets. "Here. Jim gave these to me. He was invited to this extreme posh gay club just outside of London. They're having this very popular DJ do a set tomorrow night. He can't go---well he wouldn't go anyway---but we're going to Brighton this weekend for Rainbow Days and he told me to find one of my college friends to pass them on to. Since you like to dance, I'd figure you and John could go and take your daddies. You each can bring a guest."

Greg took the tickets. They were made out of glossy black cardboard. Neon purple letters read:

_AGRA_

EXCLUSIVE VIP PASS

Saturday, April 15th 10:00 p.m.

MUSIC BY DJ DOKTOR WHO

COME EXPERIENCE THE LOVE

"Doktor Who? Well, John and I are definitely in. If My and Sherlock don't want to go I'm sure we can find someone else. Thanks Sebastian."

"Hey, no problem. Jim will be glad to see them put to good use. Apparently this place is expensive with a capital E. We're talking Cristal Champagne, twenty-four karat gold faucets in the bathroom, marble dance floor."

"Along with the jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash.  And we'll never be royals..." Greg sang.

Sebastian laughed. "You're hilarious. Well, I hope you have a good time. Classes have ended for me so I'm heading home to pack. Jim's already there. He texted me, he got us lunch." He got off the bench and picked up his bag, slinging it over his well-defined shoulders.

"Have a good time!" Greg said cheerfully. "Taste the rainbow!"

"Oh, I do that every day with Jim. Bye Greg!"

Greg chuckled as he watched him walk away. He put the tickets in his own bag. He had one more class to go and then it was freedom.

*****

John looked at the ticket Greg gave him. "I've never heard of this Doktor Who but he sounds interesting. And speaking of doctors, if we're going to this place tomorrow night I need to set the DVR. I'm not missing the series premiere of _The Pilot_. I want to see how this new companion Bill does." John picked up the remote and started pressing buttons.

"From the previews she didn't look too promising but that was only a few seconds. Hopefully the new episode changes that," Greg said. "I'll make sure to record it when I get home."

"Who are we going to invite to this place seeing's how our mates don't do clubs?" John asked.

"I was thinking Phillip and Andy. Now that Phillip is a bonafide gay and dumped Sally, this could be his and Andy's coming out celebration."

John snorted. "I don't know how Sally could have missed all the signs that Anderson played for the other team. The man has every edition of _Twink Magazine_ that's known to man."

"Sally was holding on to a pipe dream," Greg replied.

"While Anderson dreamed of pipe," John cracked.

"John you're terrible."

John grinned like a loon. "I know."

The two heard door downstairs slam. "That'll be Sherlock. I recognize that slam anywhere," John remarked.

Sure enough, Sherlock was soon opening the door to his and John's flat. John walked to him and greeted him with a kiss. "Hey Sher. Everything go well with that meeting?"

"Yes but that's two hours of my life I'll never get back." He slipped his arms around John and kissed him back. "How was school?"

"Fine. Greg got two tickets to this exclusive club for tomorrow night. We can each take a guest. Since you and your brother don't like clubs, we're thinking of asking two other friends."

Sherlock saw Greg sitting on the couch and smiled at him. "So how did you score these tickets?"

"Sebastian gave them to us. Jim got them and they can't go because they're going to Brighton," Greg explained.

"The club's called AGRA and it's apparently a very posh gay men's hangout. We're talking $200 bottles of champagne," John added.

"And celebrity DJ Doktor Who," Greg piped in.

"Sounds very pretentious," Sherlock mused.

"Of course. That's why we're going," Greg said, chuckling.

"Sher, are you sure you don't want to come and check it out?" John asked.

"I'm quite sure. Victor tried to get me into the club scene and it wasn't for me," Sherlock replied.

"Maybe they weren't the right clubs," Greg surmised.

Greg's phone rang and he saw Mycroft's name on the screen. "Hi My. No, I'm at Sherlock and John's flat. Where are you, still at home? Sure I'd love to go there for dinner. What's that? You want to what? But you told me in no uncertain terms that..."

John and Sherlock listened with interest as Greg talked to Mycroft. "Well okay, I'm glad you want to come. Sherlock doesn't want to though...I don't think I should tell him what a stick in the mud he is, he's right here in front of me."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, and John grinned.

Greg smiled and shook his head. "Okay, I'll try and convince him. I'll see you soon. Love you." Greg ended the call. "My's coming to the club tomorrow night, and as you just heard, he wants you to come to even though you're a stick in the mud."

"Hmmph," Sherlock huffed.

"You know he's trying to ruffle your feathers babe," John said, reaching up to massage his curls. "You don't have to go."

Sherlock still frowned. "No I don't." But then the corners of his mouth slightly turned upward.

"You're coming aren't you?" John said, also smiling.

"Of course John. And miss DJ Doktor Who? Do you think he'll be materializing a TARDIS on stage?"

John was beaming now. "A-ha! So you did pay attention when I was watching that marathon last week."

"Only to mock the unrealistic and fanciful depictions of science John."

"I'm not buying it," John gently retorted.

Greg jumped off the sofa. "As much as I'd love to stay and watch this lover's spat, I need to get back home and get ready, My's taking me out to dinner. Have a good night you two."

"I'll call you tomorrow," John promised.

"Tell Mycroft not to eat so much protein," Sherlock jibed.

"Don't worry Sherlock, he always works it off," Greg joked back with a wink.

Sherlock's eyes widened and Greg laughed. No doubt he was trying to wipe images of his brother's sexual activities out of his mind. "Not with sex Sherlock, exercise. There is a full gym at the Diogenes. He's partial to the treadmill." Greg winked again and was soon out the door. Sherlock flopped into his armchair. "Thank God Greg clarified that. I really don't want to think about my brother's sex life."

John moved to stand in front of Sherlock. "Put it out of your mind love." He leaned down and kissed him. "Want to take a nice, hot, long, soapy shower?"

Sherlock responded by pulling John down into his lap. John let out a yelp and Sherlock wrapped his arms around him, peppering small kisses all over his face and neck.  John hummed and placed his hands on Sherlock's hips, massaging them gently. 

Once Sherlock was done, he buried his face in John's neck. "Still want that shower?" John asked, drawing imaginary lines on Sherlock's back.

"Of course, but we need to get dirty first," Sherlock said, smirking knowingly.

*****

AGRA sat on the outskirts of London, a huge building that was once a warehouse converted into a playland for Britain's rich and famous gay patrons. The outside was painted black, with the name of the club displayed at the top in purple neon lights. 

"So this is what all the hype's about?" Mycroft asked, nose wrinkling up in distaste.

"I admit, it doesn't look all that impressive from the outside," Greg said.

"Well, that's probably done on purpose," John concluded.

"I like it. Better to go with a minimal look," Sherlock praised. "Not everything has to look like it was designed by a three year-old at nursery."

"We can discuss the appearance inside, it's a bit chilly out here," Greg told everyone. 

The men walked to the front where an intimidating looking brown-haired man with broad shoulders stuffed into a black T-shirt with the words AGRA STAFF on the front stood by the door. Greg handed him the tickets. The man perused them for a few seconds. "All good." He opened the door. "Welcome to AGRA gentlemen, enjoy your stay."

*****

If the club's outside was Doctor Jekyll, the inside was Mr. Hyde. Plush sofas, chairs and sectionals in black and dark purple dotted the seating areas. The bar, which ran the length of the entire club, had built-in mirrored panels which reflected the glass bottles of the alcohol that sat on the shelves. The mood lighting inside was cast in a lavender glow. The dance floor, located at the front, was black and white marble.

"Wow Sher, it's like your purple shirt of sex designed its own place to live," John told Sherlock with a laugh.

Sherlock pouted, but John just laughed again and John placated him with a kiss. Mycroft was also laughing. "Your John has quite the sense of humor, just like my Gregory."

"We should probably find some seats, it's starting to get a little crowded in here. "Come on My." Greg took Mycroft's hand. The two found an area against the wall across from the bar that had two loveseats surrounding a small black table. John and Sherlock followed them. 

The four were sitting and chatting when a tall, thin young man with spiky black hair sporting piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and nose approached them, wearing a tight-fitted black silk shirt and black cargo pants with zippers everywhere. "May I get you some drinks gentlemen?"

Mycroft ordered a bourbon, Greg and John both asked for Coronas, and Sherlock requested a glass of their best red wine. Once the waiter was gone, John turned to Sherlock and smiled. "He reminded me a little of you. I bet that's what you looked like when you were in uni."

"It was, but I didn't have spiky hair. My head was shaved but I left my curls on top," Sherlock explained.

John tried to picture Sherlock with a curly mohawk, dressed in tight black clothing, slinking around a college campus, and the image turned him on so much he started to get hard. He was extremely grateful for the lack of bright lighting or everyone could have seen his bulge.

He felt a hand on his thigh. "Yes, I was devastatingly sexy back then, if you heard all the come-ons I got," Sherlock whispered, as if reading John's mind. He gently caressed John's thigh, moving in closer to kiss his neck.

Mycroft noticed the public display of affection and decided to repeat it with Greg. He put an arm around the younger man and started nuzzling his neck. Greg grinned and placed his hand on Mycroft's chest before slipping it inside a gap of his white dress shirt. Mycroft hummed at the warm touch on his skin. 

The waiter returned with the drinks, smiling at his customers. Touching and groping was a nightly occurrence at the club, and he'd been on the receiving end of a few handsy men himself. "Enjoy gentlemen." he said before walking away.

Sherlock removed himself from John to take a sip of his wine. It was a pleasant, crisp taste of berries, not too sweet. He'd have to find out the brand so he could buy a bottle.

Everyone was enjoying their drinks when all of a sudden music began to play. John and Greg instantly recognized it as Orbital's version of the _Doctor Who_ Theme, and they began bopping their heads. Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged amused glances and shook their heads.

DJ Doktor Who was beginning his set. The purple lights faded to a TARDIS blue color. "Hell yeah!" John yelled. 

Greg jumped up. "Let's go see what this dude looks like." He gave Mycroft a quick kiss. "Be right back love."

John followed suit and the two made their way to the dance floor. It wasn't long before they spotted some of the clubgoers winking at them or blowing kisses in their direction. "Oh boy," John remarked. 

"Hey, we're two gorgeous blokes, don't be surprised," Greg boasted.

DJ Doktor Who was behind a long table that had three record players sitting side by side on it, and a stereo system with two CD decks. A mini TARDIS sat on top of the stereo. John and Greg were surprised to see he was an older man that looked to be in his forties. He was wearing a knitted Dalek cap on his head, a black T-shirt with an 80's style Cybermen head on it. Underneath the Cyberman was the word "Excellent" spelled out in silver letters.

"He looks like my dad playing DJ," Greg joked.

"I like that he doesn't look too intimidating. Let's see what he can do," John replied.

After the song ended, the DJ began to talk. "Good evening clubbers! The Doktor is in the house and ready to spin some cool grooves for you tonight, so I want to see bodies hitting the dance floor. Let's get this party started!"

The first notes of Muse's "Uprising" began and then Blondie's "Call Me" was mixed into it. A mashup, John told himself. It didn't sound half bad so he started dancing. Greg was already moving. 

Soon other men were on the floor dancing. The energy of the place began to change, it was getting more lively and charged. The lights were now rotating into a rainbow. John and Greg quickly found themselves having a great time. 

Meanwhile, Sherlock and Mycroft were sitting on the couch, noses wrinkled in simpatico as they listened to the music. "Is that what passes for music today?" Mycroft asked.

"Obviously," came Sherlock's dry reply.

"Well, we'll have to educate our young men on the classics. I'm taking Gregory to see the London Philharmonic in two weeks at the opera house. He's not keen on it but he's doing it to make me happy."

"Have you ever seen him dance?" Sherlock asked.

"I've caught him few times, and always to some robotic sounding noise with repetitive lyrics about blasting off to outer space, or someone wanting to be their fantasy." Mycroft shook his head. "Although I must admit, Gregory looks very sexy doing it."

"John's not bad a dancer either. Sometimes he gives me, ahem, private shows," Sherlock said with a wink.

"You do realize they're up there dancing, showing off their bodies to other men?" Mycroft was frowning. 

"Yes. We should go up there to make sure they're okay," Sherlock said, in line with his brother's line of thinking.

The two looked at each other. "Let's go!" they both said in unison.

*****

John had the command of the dance floor. The DJ was playing a song he heard a while back that he'd grown to like. It was a fast, hard club beat with breathy robotic vocals and catchy synths. He wasn't the best dancer but he could keep rhythm.

He'd pulled his dog tags out of his shirt, which was now unbuttoned. The waistband of his dark wash blue jeans were pulled slightly low, revealing the top of his red pants. He chose this outfit on purpose knowing it was one of Sherlock's favorites, and eventually he knew his lover would get curious enough to watch him on the dance floor. 

Greg stood off to the sides, clapping and cheering his friend on. He looked up and saw Mycroft and Sherlock approaching, and he grinned deviously.

Sherlock saw John bumping and grinding in the middle of the dance floor, hips swerving seductively in time to the throbbing dance beat. He noticed the dog tags glistening under the lights, the sliver of red pants peeking out under his jeans, and he could feel an erection coming on. John's blond hair was radiant, almost platinum, and he could see the sweat on his forehead and on his golden, muscular chest. John was five foot five of pure sex, and he wanted nothing more than to snatch him away, find the closest private space, and shag him furiously.

Mycroft joined Greg. "I must say, John is working the room rather well."

Greg put his arms around Mycroft. "He is. Look at your brother. He's ready to fuck him right on this dance floor."

John saw Sherlock gaping at him and he winked, then blew a kiss at him. He stretched out his arm, wiggling his fingers with a come-hither look on his handsome face.

The song ended, but another one faded in. It was clearly the same song, in the same key, but sounded much differently, and older, like it was from the 80's. It still had a driving beat. The vocals were female, breathy and sexy, as if Marilyn Monroe was singing a dance song. 

Sherlock joined John on the dance floor. He wrapped his long arms around him and began to sway. His moves were fluid, graceful, and elegant.

Several hoots and hollers erupted from around them, but the two ignored it. "You're a great dancer Sherlock. Did you have lessons?" John asked.

"Yes, when I was a child. Mummy made me and Mycroft take them for the numerous, boring charity balls she threw."

"Well, they're definitely coming in handy tonight." John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's lips. "I'm glad you're here with me. 

"I didn't think I would enjoy this, but I'm having a good time," Sherlock admitted. He pulled John even closer, getting lost in his scent of sweat mingled with mint and lemongrass of the expensive shower gel that he'd bought for his younger mate. It was one of his better purchases.

The song soon ended, and the two stopped dancing, both panting hard. The crowd began to clap and cheer again. "Good show," one of the men said to Sherlock. You're one lucky chap to score a beauty like him."

"I certainly am. And I'm going to take my beauty somewhere where we can be alone and dance in private."

"The second floor has rooms for VIP guests---just find a member of the staff and they will take you to one. Have a good time gorgeous," the man replied with a saucy wink.

Sherlock all but dragged John away from the dance floor and was off to find one of the staff.

*****

Mycroft and Greg were back at their suite at The Diogenes. The two were lying in bed, arms wrapped around each other. They had left the club after John and Sherlock started dancing. Mycroft had no desire for the music, and Greg, seeing John and Sherlock wrapped up in each other literally and figuratively, decided it wouldn't be long before the two would stop dancing vertically and start dancing horizontally, so he was more than fine with leaving.

"Sorry the club wasn't too much fun for you My, but I'm glad you did get out and experience it with me," Greg said, before placing kisses all over Mycroft's chest.

"My pleasure Gregory. It's good for me to be out of my comfort zone once in a while."

"Just like I will be soon when I go to this classical music concert with you."

"I know it's not your cup of tea but---"

" _You're_ my cup of tea My, and if we're going to be together I also need to appreciate what you enjoy." Greg smiled at him and kissed him tenderly.

Mycroft could feel tears forming in his eyes, starting to feel overcome at Greg's sweet and thoughtful words. He hugged Greg tighter and kissed him back, much more passionately. "I love you," he said after he broke away from him.

"I love you too My," Greg replied, and placed his head on Mycroft's chest.

The two soon fell asleep. And on the other side of town, Sherlock and John were taking full advantage of a VIP suite at AGRA, ensuring a rather large cleaning job for the staff in the morning.

 

 Songs mentioned in the chapter:

[I'm Yours Tonight - Lady D](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mICwR8sR-gs)

[I'm Yours Tonight (remake) - Trans-X](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1LJyceV0FA)

[Call Me Uprising Mashup: Blondie vs. Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJNGTtzzASo)

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last day of classes before summer break which means Greg finally gives Mycroft what he's been longing for!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing but Mystrade fluff and smut!

May was finally here, and Greg and John were excited. Summer break was soon around the corner. John was eagerly anticipating his trip to France with Sherlock. He was leaving this weekend and would be in the country through the beginning of August. 

"I'm going to miss you like crazy," Greg told his friend as they sat inside the cafeteria eating lunch.

"I'm going to miss you too. But we'll Skype, and talk on the phone," John told him.

"In between shags right?" Greg replied coyly with a wink.

John laughed. "Oh Sherlock's made it perfectly clear he wants to have me in every room of the house, and in the pool. He's already seen everything there is to see in France, but I'm going to do some serious sightseeing while I'm over there that doesn't involve looking at Sherlock naked." He took a sip of his soda. "You and Mycroft have any plans this summer?"

"I'm happy just staying in London with him, but he does want to go on vacation somewhere. I'm not sure what we're going to do."

"Well, I'll know one thing you'll be doing, now that term is over," John cheekily said.

Greg blushed slightly and peered down at his burger. "Yeah, I did promise Mycroft after classes end I'd sleep with him. He's been looking forward to it ever since we first met. He's been very patient, and I want to make sure it's special, you know?"

"You'll be fine. You two love each other," John pointed out.

"We do. It's just that it's been a while since I've been with someone. I never expected my relationship to be like this. It's been amazing." Greg smiled at his friend. 

"And it will continue to be amazing, trust me," John reassured him.

Just then Greg's phone rang. He pulled it out of his jeans pocket. "It's Mycroft. I'll be right back."

Greg walked over to an empty section of the cafeteria to answer the call. "Hi My. What's going on?"

"Hi Gregory. I just got out of a very long and draining staff meeting at the club and I'm heading to the restaurant for lunch. Care to meet me?"

"Oh My, I'm sorry, I'm having lunch with John at the uni cafeteria. I've got my sociology class, and then I'll be home. Maybe we could go out for dinner later? You pick."

"That sounds wonderful. I'll see you when you get here. I love you Gregory."

"Love you too. Wish me luck with class, I'm turning in my project today."

"I know you'll get an excellent grade on it, you've worked so hard."

"I hope so, especially since I've gotten wonderful firsthand experience."

Mycroft chuckled. "Of course. I'll see you later darling."

"Bye love, and thanks."

Greg hung up the phone, feeling much better. How he loved that man. He decided right then and there tonight was going to be their first time. He just hoped Mycroft would feel the same way.

*****

 "So Mycroft, how is that delicious young man of yours?" Jim Moriarty asked Mycroft as the two lunched together at The Diogenes Club.

"Gregory is wonderful. I love being with him," Mycroft answered with a big grin.

"And now that school is ending both you and I will have our honeys all to ourselves for the summer. I'm taking Sebby to Ireland. We'll be staying at my ancestral castle. He's never been and is excited to hit all the tourist attractions. If I had my way, he'd never be leaving my bed. Do you have any plans for your Greg?"

"I'm thinking of a trip to Key West. It's warm, laid-back, and not London. Don't get me wrong, I love living here, but I do need an escape every now and then."

"Mmm yes, I know what you mean." Jim took a sip of his brandy. "Isn't it thrilling dating a younger man? They have such ravenous appetites, and not just for food."

Mycroft just smiled at Jim. He didn't need to know he and Greg haven't had sex yet, but that would soon change. Greg said when school was out for summer break, their relationship would turn physical. Mycroft wanted their first time to be special, and when Greg was ready. 

*****

Greg's final sociology class would be the students privately meeting with Professor McCann to discuss their projects. Greg was relieved the professor wasn't making them present in front of everyone. While his classmates knew about his sugar daddy study, they didn't need to know he was actually dating his subject. Professor McCann knew and had said nothing.

Greg was glad he was the last student to be called. That meant everyone else would be gone, and he could talk more freely and openly with the professor.

"So Greg, I've looked over your paper and listened to your recordings of your subject, and I have to say it's excellent. It was very interesting listening to Mycroft Holmes speak. You know his mother Viola has donated a lot of money to St. Bart's?"

Greg nodded. "He's told me. I haven't met her yet, but he's going to be introducing me to her this summer."

Professor McCann grinned. "So, you are continuing this relationship past the project?"

"Yes. I've come to really love him. It's not about the money or social status anymore. He's just a genuinely great guy."

"Well Greg, I must say this has been an unorthodox project for you to take on and for me to agree to, but you've been very discreet and professional with your research. You definitely deserve high marks," Professor McCann told him happily.

"Wow, thank you Professor. I'm honored."

"You've worked hard and I know it wasn't easy. But now it's over, so get out of here and enjoy your summer." Professor McCann smiled and held out his hand. Greg shook it and smiled back. "Thanks, I will. You have a good summer too."

"Oh I intend to. I'll be doing a tour of Italy. See you next year."

"Goodbye Professor." Greg left the classroom, feeling like a huge weight was removed from his shoulders. He'd be getting a great grade and now he could enjoy being with Mycroft even more than he already had. He was the happiest he'd ever been.

*****

"My! I'm home!" Greg called out. The suite was dark. Greg walked through the living room, down the short hallway, and into the master bedroom he and Mycroft shared. He wasn't there. He went into the guest bedroom, empty. 

He heard his phone buzz. Maybe he's texting him. Greg pulled it out and sure enough, there it was. 

_Had to go see Mummy about a charity gala she's headlining. She expects you to attend it, it's in July. I'll be taking you to my tailor to get a suit fitted. I'll be home around five-thirty. I love you._

Greg smiled and typed back.

_Have fun with Mummy. I'm home now, not leaving. Professor McCann loved my project and gave me high marks. I love you too._

Mycroft replied a few seconds later. _That's wonderful. We should celebrate. Where would you like to go?_

Greg thought about it. He didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay in tonight and relax. The wheels in his brain started to turn as a plan began to form.

_How about we just stay home and order something in? I'll take care of everything._

_That's fine by me. I've been running all day, it will be nice to come home, take my shoes off, and be alone together. I'll eat whatever you get._

_Great. I'll see you in a while._

Greg put his phone away and headed back to their bedroom. He decided to call Angelo, who promised him a free dinner after he introduced his son Luke to Brad, one of his rugby teammates who needed a date to his sister's wedding. The two hit it off and were now seeing each other.

Greg would pick up the food. He wanted to surprise his mate.

*****

Mycroft arrived home a little after five-thirty, exhausted. He'd been out since nine this morning, first with that dreadfully boring club meeting, then meeting with Mummy after lunch to discuss her latest charity ball. 

Viola Holmes had donated hundreds of thousands to St. Bart's. Her husband Sigerson, affectionately known as "Siggy," used to teach chemistry there. Viola had met him at a conference and the two fell madly in love. He continued to teach there after the births of Mycroft and Sherlock, until he sadly succumbed to prostate cancer at the age of 70. So Viola had supported his beloved school with monetary gifts. Now St. Bart's wanted to build a new science wing and name it The Sigerson Holmes Science and Research Center, and his widow was gladly helping them raise funds by holding this ball. Mycroft couldn't begrudge her---this was for his late father, and he knew he would have been pleased to see it happen.

But now, it was all about Greg, and celebrating the end of his project and the beginning of summer. No more classes also meant they could finally, finally be together sexually, but he wasn't going to pressure him. It wouldn't be any good if he did.

"Gregory?" Mycroft called out. "I'm home!" 

He began removing his tie and his suit jacket, heading for the bedroom. He opened the door but no Greg. "I wonder where he could be?" he asked aloud. He hung up his tie and jacket, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He stepped out of his shoes and took off his socks, putting them inside his shoes and put them on the floor of the closet.

He did some stretching, and let out a big yawn. Just then, Greg entered the room. "Hi My. Long day huh?"

"It was that." Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg and kissed him softly on the lips. "I'm glad you didn't want to go out tonight."

"Well, come with me, I've got a surprise for you," Greg said cryptically. He took Mycroft's hand and began leading him out of the bedroom.

"Hmm, you've got me curious," Mycroft said. 

Greg led him to the balcony located off the living room. He opened the sliding glass door. Mycroft's eyes widened as he saw the little round table that usually sat uncovered, now with a red and white check tablecloth on it. The two chairs were set on either side.  There were two plates of seafood fettuccine, a basket of breadsticks, and a bottle of white wine with two goblets. 

"Surprise!" Greg cheerfully cried. 

"What's all this?"

"It's our romantic Italian dinner. I went to Angelo's."

"But Gregory, this must have been expensive! I mean, that bottle of Pinot Grigio alone is a pretty penny."

"No worries love. I didn't pay a dime. Angelo promised me a free dinner for setting his son up with a friend of mine, so I came to collect."

"This is wonderful. And very romantic," Mycroft praised. "I love it."

"Good." Greg gave him a kiss. "Let's sit down and eat."

 *****

The balcony overlooked a breathtaking view of London at twilight. A crescent moon hung in the darkening sky, the glowing sliver of white accenting walls of blue and purple. A slight breeze would show itself every now and then. Greg and Mycroft sat in their chairs side by side, holding hands and enjoying each other's company. The food had settled pleasantly in their stomachs and several glasses of wine warmed their insides. 

"Gregory, this has been such a lovely evening. This dinner on the balcony was better than any of the fancy restaurants we've been too," Mycroft mused.

"I agree," Greg said, leaning back and sighing contently. "But the evening is far from over."

"Oh?" Mycroft started to feel tingly. Could this be the night that his beautiful, perfect Gregory would want to make love with him?

"As you know, I'm done with spring term and I told you once my project was done we would be together."

"Yes, I know." The tingles escalated.

"Well My...I want to be with you tonight. I want us to make love."

Mycroft's tingles went straight to his cock and he felt it twitch. But he wanted to make sure this was what Greg wanted. "Are---are you sure Gregory?"

Greg nodded vehemently. "Yes. I have no reservations. This is what I want. He gazed at Mycroft intensely.

Mycroft said nothing. He stood up and held out his hand to Greg, who took it, and got out of his chair. The two walked into the living room and Mycroft shut and locked the sliding doors behind them. Still holding Greg's hand, he led him down the hallway and into their bedroom.

*****

Clothes were askew on the floor, and the only light in the room came from a set of brass lamps mounted on the wall. Moans and groans ruminated from a king-sized four poster bed, and two creamy bodies were moving heatedly in the sheets.

Greg was laying on the bed, legs and arms wrapped around Mycroft, hips jutting up to meet his lover's hot and rapid thrusts, his nails gently scratching up and down Mycroft's bare back. His eyes were closed, and he was panting breathlessly as Mycroft slid in and out of him. "God it feels so good. I love you," he moaned.

"I love you too Gregory, I love you so much," Mycroft breathed, voice thick with desire. It had been so long since he'd had sex, he'd forgotten how spectacular it felt to be inside someone. His young lover was hot and loose and pleasure was building up so intensely he wondered how long he could hold out until he came.

Mycroft's leaned in and his mouth caught Greg's. Greg hungrily devoured him, slipping his tongue inside. The sensation sent sparks right down Mycroft's body, seeping into his chest and eventually to his cock. Greg's nails dug in harder into his flesh, then slid down to his hips where he grabbed both sides, pulling Mycroft into him, deeper and deeper.

Mycroft couldn't stand it anymore. He lifted Greg up off the bed, turned and shoved him against the wall. Greg's legs were wrapped around his waist even tighter, and he ferociously pounded him.

It was a crescendo, rising higher and higher until finally, both men came with a loud shout. Greg spilled all over Mycroft's stomach and Greg let out a long, obscene moan as he felt his lover burst inside him. "You've ruined me Mycroft Holmes, and this is only our first time together."

Mycroft slowly pulled out of Greg and the two slid down the wall onto the floor. They sat with their backs against the wall, catching their breath. "I plan to keep ruining you Gregory Lestrade."

"Good." Greg leaned in close and kissed him. "We'd better get cleaned up, can't go to bed all sticky and filthy." He got up and held out his hand. "Shower or bath?"

"Shower." Mycroft smirked. "That way, it will be easier to clean ourselves again after I've ruined you for the second time tonight."

*****

Greg and Mycroft were clean, dry, and lying in bed. Mycroft was perusing expense reports and Greg was reading a Doctor Who novel.

"Gregory dear, would you like to go to Key West?"

Greg looked up from his book and grinned at Mycroft. "That sounds like fun. When are you thinking of leaving?"

"The day after Mummy's charity gala. Anthea's parents own a condo there, and they're not using it this summer. I thought we could stay there until your fall term begins."

Greg sat up and closed his book, startled. "You mean, we'd be in Florida for most of July and all of August?"

Mycroft nodded. "Yes. Is that okay?"

"Oh My, it's more than okay. The two of us in a tropical paradise, nothing but sun, sand, surf---"

"And sex. Plenty of sex."

Greg laughed and fell on top of Mycroft, planting kisses all over his face. "No, we can't forget that. You're wonderful, you know that? I'm so lucky to have found you."

Mycroft thought his heart would burst right then and there. "I'm the lucky one. I love you."

"I love you too." Greg kissed him again, and placed his head in the crook of Mycroft's neck.

Mycroft let out a soft sigh of satisfaction. It was going to be the best summer of his life.

 

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just happy couples in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely little story has come to an end! I'm glad so many enjoyed it. This is a long chapter so I can tie everything up as neatly as possible. There is very, very, very mild angst in this one but it explains Mycroft's decision to be a sugar daddy.

It was the end of June, and London was embroiled in a miserable heatwave. The fountains had been made available to kids and people trying to cool off, and several places with functioning air conditioning were turned into cooling centers during the day.

It was Monday. Greg and Mycroft were at the tailor's on Marylebone Road, being fitted for suits for Mummy Holmes' Galaxy Ball to benefit St. Bart's new science wing. The big event was on Saturday, July 2nd at the family estate in Somerset. Sherlock and John would also be attending, flying in from France.

Mycroft sat in a plush armchair as he watched Mr. Troy take Greg's measurements. The Troys were the official tailors of the Holmes men, suiting them up for various occasions ever since Sherlock and John were school age. 

He was never able to look back in time when he brought his first boyfriend here for a fitting, or any of the other memories of the man, it was too painful. But now that he had Greg, those memories were much easier to replay in his mind. And Greg had known what had happened, he talked to him about it during his project.

His name was Jackson Abbott.

Mycroft had met him at a pub called The Black Umbrella. He was still in uni, a year left before graduation. Mycroft wasn't planning to go to the pub but a sudden and violent downpour forced him inside as he was walking down the street to the bookstore.

Mycroft took a table right by the door so he could make a quick exit when the storm stopped. He wasn't planning on having anything to drink or eat but when the waiter came by to take an order, Mycroft looked up, and into the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. Those emerald orbs were attached to a impossibly handsome face with sandy blond hair, a tall, well-built body, and an easy, friendly smile.

He was hooked right from the start, and ordered a bourbon.

Jackson kept flirting with him the entire time, and before Mycroft knew it, he'd been in there for an hour and a half, long after the storm had blown through. Jackson asked him out and Mycroft agreed.

The first two months had been pure bliss. Jackson was not like the posh, snobbish men Mycroft was used to being around. He was loud, he cussed like a sailor, loved beer, and was a football fan. He'd tried to get Mycroft introduced to sports but it was useless.

Jackson was also very good in bed. They had shagged on their fourth date. Mycroft quickly fell in love. Unfortunately Jackson didn't feel the same way.

At the end of their fourth month together, Mycroft found him in bed with a woman that turned out to be his first cousin, but that wasn't the worst of it. It turned out Jackson was a golddigger. He'd only wanted Mycroft because he came from money and felt he'd could get material goods out the relationship. "I never really loved you, and I really didn't like you that much either," Jackson had said.

Mycroft didn't cry or scream. He was not one to do that. He simply and politely asked Jackson to come to his house that weekend, Mycroft had a "break-up gift" for him.

Jackson, the greedy jerk that he was, showed up. Mycroft's 'gift' was a brutal deduction by his fifteen year-old brother Sherlock, who had been itching to finally sink his brilliant hooks into the creep that broke his brother's heart.

"Bisexual, sleeping with your cousin, but apparently you're partial to shagging distant relatives on a regular basis because except for my brother it's difficult for you to find people that agree to willingly sleep with you. You gamble on football games and owe hundreds of pounds to various loan sharks, hence you dating my brother because it's easy money. You work as a waiter in a pub not so much for a paycheck or because you like it, but so you can get easy access to expensive alcohol, you steal the good stuff, then replace it with cheap knockoffs and return it back to the bar. Your parents hate you and you're a uni dropout."

Jackson was so mortified he left after that, and the last Mycroft heard of him he was in jail for check fraud. 

After that relationship fiasco, Mycroft made a vow to himself he'd never be suckered like that again. So he just didn't get involved with anyone and focused on his career. When he was finally financially stable, he realized he was lonely and did want companionship, but it was going to be on his terms. And if someone did want him for his money, he was the one that was going to be in control of the relationship.  So he went on SugarDaddies4U so he could pick who he wanted. 

He was very selective with his choices. He tried women only first and found Anthea. She really didn't want romance, she wanted to work for a rich man and climb the corporate ladder with her brain, not her body.  Mycroft contacted her immediately and offered her a job as his personal assistant, and she'd been with him ever since. He promised her that if anything happened to him, she would take over running the club. He even wrote it out in his will.

He continued to weed through interested parties, and even went out on a few dates, but none of them sparked his interest. Sherlock even tried to set him up with one of Victor's friends, but the people Victor hung out with were too vapid for his liking. He wanted someone interesting, down-to-earth, and with an air of innocence about them. 

Then he found Greg. He thought it would be a good idea to get to know him through his school project. There would be more honesty between them knowing he had to discuss his lifestyle to someone who at first was learning and observing. And it didn't hurt Greg was extremely handsome. 

Now here he is, hopelessly in love and not imagining being with anyone else. 

He smiles as Mr. Troy leads Greg to the collection of jackets and pants. Mycroft's only request was that it be dark gray. Greg could choose the shirt and tie.

Half an hour later, Mr. Troy shows Mycroft a charcoal gray jacket with matching vest and trousers. The material has a shimmer to it and he nods appreciatively. Greg has chosen a bright white dress shirt with a midnight blue colored silk tie. "Since it's space themed, I thought the color of the night sky," he said. Mycroft can't help but grin, Greg is very observant. He'll make a good Detective Inspector one day.

Greg steps in the fitting room to try on his suit and when he emerges five minutes later, Mycroft's heart leaps in his throat. "Gorgeous Gregory, simply gorgeous."

"You think so? I think the vest really brings it together."

"I agree wholeheartedly. You're smashing."

Greg gives him a thumbs up. "Now that I'm done, it's your turn My. I think a dark navy suit for you. It would be complimentary with mine."

Mycroft smiles widely. "I think you're right."

An hour later, Mycroft has his navy suit, with white shirt, and tie the same color as Greg's. The two decide to head home and keep cool in the air conditioning, both hoping it won't be as hot the day of Mummy's ball.

*****

Sherlock is in the bathroom fussing with his hair. The humidity has taken a toll on his curls, so he decided to get a haircut. He hesitated about having his curls chopped off, but he got tired of his head looking like a rat's nest. Now his dark tresses are short, the curls smoothed into nice little waves, and he loves it. So did John. He got so worked up over his haircut it led to a glorious sex session on the kitchen table, and Sherlock decided he'd keep this look for a while.

"Sher, are you about done in there, I need to take my shower!" John's voice rang out from the hall. Your mom's shindig starts in two hours!"

"Coming out now John!" Sherlock answered. John always chastised him for taking too long to get ready. "You don't need a lot of time, you look perfect no matter what," he'd always say. "It's the ordinary blokes like me who need all the time they can get."

Sherlock opened the door and saw John wearing his red dressing gown that he'd bought for him. "I won't be long babe." He reached up to kiss him. "Too bad you're not joining me."

"We'll take a shower together when we get home from this impossibly boring party," Sherlock replied.

"Oh, it's not going to be that bad, and I'm looking forward to seeing Greg."

Sherlock and John had been in France since term ended, staying at the family retreat. John and Greg kept in touch by Skype and text. John's time in the country had been amazing and he was loving every minute of it, especially with Sherlock by his side. They were back in their London flat for the weekend to attend the charity ball.

"We don't have to stay for the whole thing you know," John said with a wink.

Sherlock chuckled. "You're reading my mind."

*****

The Holmes estate was an elegant, sprawling stone mansion nestled in the British countryside surrounded by pine, maple, and oak trees. An apple orchard sat on the very edge of the enormous backyard.

Mycroft had arranged for a Diogenes Club driver to bring Sherlock and John to and from the party. Greg wanted all of them to ride together, but Mycroft knew Sherlock and John would want to be alone during the hour's drive, and he wanted to be alone with Greg, to prepare him for the spitfire that was his mother.

"Do you think she hates me? You know for being a golddigger?" Greg asked.

"You're not a golddigger Gregory. You mostly protest when I want to buy you things and take you out for meals. I had a bad experience with a boy when I was your age. He was using me for money. After that happened, Mummy wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. That's all. She'll love you."

"I hope so, because I plan to stick around for a long time," Greg said firmly.

*****

Greg and Mycroft entered the foyer. A young man dressed in a traditional tuxedo greeted them and led them to the great hall where the ball was being held. 

Greg's brown eyes grew wide in amazement. "Wow, this is beautiful."

Glow in the dark stars, along with intricately made replicas of the planets that hung down from the rafters, turned the ceiling into a lovely night sky. The soft white lights that sat in silver sconces along the walls were replaced with blue bulbs. The round tables that dotted the room were draped with black tablecloths and blue cloth napkins. The centerpieces were golden half sun/half moon sculptures that held a single white votive candle.

Against the wall in the back of the room an orchestra was setting up their instruments. In the meantime, smooth jazz instrumentals were being played through a sound system.

Mycroft spotted his mother near the french doors talking to another woman, an attractive sixty-something with ash blonde hair pulled up into an elegant bun, wearing a plum colored satin ballgown with matching wrap. Mycroft recognized her. She was Lady Smallwood, one of Viola Holmes' oldest and dearest friends. 

Viola herself was a striking woman with silver hair also done in an elegant updo. She wore a dove gray silk elbow sleeve blouse paired with a full silver metallic princess-style skirt. She looked like a mature female version of Sherlock. Mycroft had inherited his father's looks.

"Is that your mother?" Greg asked Mycroft.

"Yes, that's Mummy."

"She's beautiful. Sherlock looks just like her."

"Yes he does, and I look like my father."

"He must have been a very handsome man."

Mycroft couldn't help but blush. He loved it when Greg paid him compliments. "Come Gregory, let's meet Mummy."

Greg steeled himself as he followed Mycroft. He wanted his mother to approve of him.

Viola saw her oldest son, looking dapper in a dark navy suit and smiled brightly. She saw Greg behind him, and she became very intrigued. Mycroft had told her he'd found a younger man and fallen head over heels in love. The boy was good-looking, not a pretty boy, but rugged and athletic. His skin was tan and he appeared very nervous. Viola deduced he was apprehensive about meeting her for the first time.

"Hello Mummy. You look wonderful," Mycroft greeted her. 

Viola pecked his cheek. "Thank you dear. You look so distinguished. Navy always was your color."

"Gregory picked this out for me."

Viola shot Greg a bemused look. "He did? Well, he has very good taste." She held out her right hand. "Viola Holmes."

"Greg Lestrade. It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Holmes." Greg shook her hand gently.

"Thank you. Please call me Viola."

"Oh yes, Viola." Greg grew a little more relaxed and smiled politely.

"You look very distinguished as well."

"Thank you. Mycroft chose this for me and he did an excellent job."

"Mycroft always had an eye for fit."

Mycroft blushed again and Viola laughed. "Now dear, you know that's true so don't be embarrassed." She turned to Greg. "What do you think of my home so far?"

"Amazing. I love the decorations."

"Yes, Mrs. Turner and her crew always do a lovely job. I do hope you have a good time tonight Gregory, and you take good care of my son. When he told me about you, you should have heard him. He's head over heels in love."

This time it was Greg's turn to blush. "I feel the same way."

Viola clapped her hands in approval. "Wonderful! I feel this is going to be my most successful ball yet. Well, I must be a good hostess and mingle. You two have fun!" And with a dash she was off.

"Things went very smoothly," Mycroft said, pleased.

"You don't know how relived I am," Greg replied, leaning against Mycroft, who pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Let's commandeer a table, and then we'll get drinks. Sherlock and John should be arriving soon, we'll hold seats for them."

The two chose a table close to the bar. Mycroft ordered a brandy for himself and a Corona for Greg. Greg watched the front of the hall, searching for Sherlock and John, and it wasn't long before he saw the two come in. He got up to greet them.

"Hey John! Hey Sherlock!"

John beamed and gave his friend a hug. "Greg, you look awesome!"

"So do you." He chuckled. "Red tie huh? That has to be Sherlock's doing."

"Of course Greg. John is simply smashing in the color." 

"And purple really suits you," Greg praised.

"John wouldn't let me leave the house unless I wore something purple."

The two were dressed in black, slender cut suits. Sherlock's shirt was an eggplant shade with a black silk tie. John's shirt was black with a bright red tie. 

"Hey, where'd your curls go?" Greg asked, just now noticing Sherlock's hair was shorter and sleeker.

"In the trash can at the salon. They don't do well in heat."

"Well, you look good."

"Thank you Greg. John likes my hair this way. A lot." Sherlock winked at his lover, who grinned like a little boy. 

"My and I have a table. Would you like to join us?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered.

"Well follow me!"

*****

John and Greg found themselves blushing almost the entire time of the party. Viola had taken them and introduced them to many of the guests, deliriously happy about them being her boys' partners and that they attended St. Bart's. "I'm sure having two students here will get everyone to loosen up their purse strings even more!" she cheerfully cried. The two were very glad Mummy Holmes liked them, otherwise the entire night would have been a disaster.

Sherlock and Mycroft were sitting at their table, missing their men.

"Mummy won't leave them be," Sherlock whined. "I was hoping to sneak out of here early with John."

Mycroft nodded. "I wasn't planning to stay long either. But you know Mummy, she always gets her way."

Three hours later, John and Greg finally returned to the table, overwhelmed and exhausted. They slumped down in their chairs. "Your mother is like the Energizer Bunny," Greg groaned. 

"I hope I have her energy when I get to be her age," John said, rubbing his thighs. "I'm so worn out I don't think I can move the rest of the night."

Sherlock frowned.  He already had planned out all the filthy, filthy things he was going to do to John when they got back to the flat. Now thanks to his mother, a night of hot and dirty sex was out the window. _Parents_ , he huffed silently.

John leaned in close to Sherlock and put his head on his shoulder. "Take me home yeah? I think after I soak in a hot bath I'll be ready to do all those filthy things you want," he whispered huskily into his ear.

Sherlock stood up so quickly blood rushed to his head. "Sorry Mycroft, Greg, but I need to get John home now. He's not feeling so well."

Greg laughed. "Yeah, of course. Nothing a little shagging can cure."

"Precisely," Sherlock replied. 

Mycroft looked pointedly at Greg. "We should be getting home as well."

"Oh yeah," Greg said, blowing a kiss to his lover.

The four of them quickly sneaked out the french doors and took the back way to the front of the mansion where their drivers were patiently waiting.

*****

John awoke to the sound of thunder and heavy rain pounding against the window. The heat and humidity of the past few days finally exploded into a raging thunderstorm. John smiled. Relief was finally here and now maybe the temperatures would be a bit cooler. He and Sherlock were spending this Sunday at their flat before leaving for France late tomorrow morning. It would be good to have a lie-in after the hectic rushing around preparing for the ball.

It had been a nice evening and the hours after the party were even better. Sherlock's mother had called in the middle of the night (while Sherlock was balls deep in him on the bedroom floor of course) and left a message profusely thanking John, as he and Greg's presence increased the amount of donations to the new science building. She also told Sherlock she loved him, and to spoil John rotten so he'd stick around for a long time.

Sherlock had listened to the message, and after he did, he was extremely wound up and hornier than ever. He took John so fast and hard Mrs. Hudson came running downstairs, thinking a crime was being committed after hearing John's screams. Sherlock was not amused. "You mean to tell me you don't know the difference between screams of pain and screams of wild, intense pleasure?"

"Well of course not dear. The late Mr. Hudson was not one to really give it his all during the times we were together if you know what I mean..."

John had snickered, and Sherlock got so flustered he bundled John back inside the flat, his libido fully crushed thanks to his landlady's interruption. So John went to sleep, and Sherlock followed...after sulking on the sofa naked for two hours.

John sat up, stretched and yawned, then laid back down and pulled the covers up over his head. Sherlock was probably no doubt inside the bathroom, making himself look even prettier than he already was. He had to be the most high-maintenance man on the planet, but John loved him so much.

Seconds later he heard that unmistakable deep chuckle. "You can't hide from me John. I'm coming back to finish what Mrs. Hudson so rudely interrupted." He slid in beside John and immediately reached for him, taking him into his arms. "Mmm, you're so warm and you smell delicious."

"I for one, am glad Mrs. Hudson is an attentive landlady. What if you were murdering me?" John asked, nuzzling Sherlock's neck.

"If I were murdering you, you wouldn't be screaming. You wouldn't even realize it."

"Good to know," John cracked.

"Let's not talk about murder, I'm trying to get off with you," Sherlock said, reaching down to stroke John's cock. John let out a small moan and before long, Sherlock was on top of him and taking him again as the thunder and heavy rain continued.

*****

"It's good to be back in France," Sherlock said happily.

He and John were strolling hand in hand through the Champs-Élysées. It was a lovely sunny day and the place was packed with both tourists and French citizens enjoying the weather.

The two passed an older male couple, also holding hands. The other men smiled at them and the taller one said "Un tel beau couple" (such a beautiful couple). Sherlock smiled back. "Merci." John just grinned and waved with his free hand. He'd learned some basic French from Sherlock, but it was mostly regarding food, where the bathrooms were, and greetings. 

"I know they were paying us a compliment but what did they say?" John whispered once they passed the men.

"They said what a beautiful couple we were."

"They're right. You're the more beautiful one though."

Sherlock squeezed John's hand affectionately. "Nonsense, you're just as beautiful. Both outside and inside."

John brought their hands up and he lightly kissed Sherlock's knuckles. "Well, how about us beautiful people find a nice cafe for lunch? I'm starving."

"Good idea John. I could go for a light meal myself."

They found a nice little cafe with outdoor seating, Café La Belle Férronnière. After Sherlock placed their orders, John began to look around, taking in the atmosphere. He saw a tall attractive woman with long blond hair, wearing a sleeveless pale blue sheath dress that John knew cost a pretty penny. She was walking towards him but he could see her gaze was directed at Sherlock, as if she knew him. John was intrigued and nudged Sherlock.

"Sher, there's a tall and beautiful woman walking this way. She looks like she knows you."

Sherlock followed John's glance and when he saw the woman, his eyes widened. "I can't believe it," he murmured in surprise.

"You know her?" John asked, his curiosity burning brighter and brighter.

"Yes. It's...it's...

"Sherlock!" the woman happily exclaimed in a smoky British accent. She reached down to hug him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "My God, it's been so long! I can't believe you're here!" She beamed at John. "And who is this gorgeous fellow?"

"Hello Victoria. You're looking wonderful," Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

John nearly opened his mouth in shock. No, this couldn't be who he thought it was. It couldn't be Sherlock's old lover Victor Trevor. Sherlock had told him about him becoming a woman. But to run into her in France of all places? What a small world.

John composed himself and smiled at Victoria. "Hello, I'm John Watson." He held out his hand and Victoria shook it. "Sherlock has told me about you. It's nice to meet you."

Victoria chuckled. "Ah, so you know I used to be a man."

John nodded. Sherlock couldn't help but be uncomfortable, but he was pleased that Victoria and John were getting along.

"Yes. Whoever did your surgery is very talented," John praised.

"Doctor Strange in Manhattan---he's the best," Victoria said, pleased at John's compliment.

The waiter brought John and Sherlock's drinks, and he asked Victoria in French if she wanted anything. She answered back also in French no, she was waiting for someone. He nodded and left.

Victoria turned back to John and Sherlock."My fiancee will be coming shortly. She stopped into one of the boutiques to purchase a dress she fell in love with."

"Fiancee?" John asked.

"Her name is Janine Hawkins. She's a socialite and a native New Yorker. We met shortly after my surgery was complete. We've been together ever since, and we're getting married this August."

"Congratulations," John said. 

Sherlock smiled, beginning to feel more at ease after hearing Victoria's announcement. "Yes, that is wonderful news."

"Welcome back," Victoria teased. Then she reached out and patted Sherlock's hand. "I know seeing me is a bit of a shock, but I'm glad we ran into each other. It's great to see you happy and that you've found someone."

"John is absolutely wonderful. I love him very much and he does make me happy." He leaned in close to John and rested his chin on his shoulder. John grinned and placed a gentle kiss on his nose.

"How long have you two been together?" Victoria wanted to know.

"Since the end of March," Sherlock replied. 

"It's been a bloody awesome three and a half months. It's still amazing that I found him. If I hadn't gone on that website, I'd still be working two dead-end jobs and living in a creaky old flat."

Victoria chuckled. "Was it SugarDaddies4U?"

"Yeah." John laughed. "I only went on there to appease my friend, who wanted to contact a sugar daddy for his sociology project. And guess who Greg chose? Sherlock's brother Mycroft! Now they're living together and hopelessly in love just like Sher and I are. It's like a romantic comedy."

"Wow, that's insane. Good, but insane." 

"Victoria darling!" a woman's voice rang out in a slight New York accent.

All three turned to see a pretty woman with long black hair, olive skin, wearing a black knee-length cold shoulder dress and sliver gladiator sandals. Victoria's face instantly brightened and she jumped up to meet her. "Janine!" The two exchanged a brief kiss before Victoria pulled her back towards Sherlock and John. "Janine, this is Sherlock Holmes and his boyfriend John Watson."

"It's finally nice to put a name to the face. Victoria's told me about you Sherlock." 

"Hello," Sherlock said.

"Hi," John added. 

"Oh, and aren't you a doll!" Janine gushed to John. "You have a thing for blondes too," she said to Sherlock with a laugh.

"Definitely," Sherlock replied, chuckling. 

"Would you like to join us for lunch?" John invited. "Sher, is it okay?"

"Sure John." Sherlock was back to his happy self. He'd never thought he'd run into his old love, and sometimes he wondered what would happen if he did. But he was glad that John was with him. It made things much less awkward. Victoria had told him she hoped he'd find someone else. He had, and it was more than he ever dreamed of. 

*****

It was early evening now, and John and Sherlock were relaxing in the sunroom, snuggling on a chaise lounge, with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. They had a delightful lunch with Victoria and Janine, who invited them to their wedding. They were getting married at Le Meurice, a luxury hotel opposite the Jardin des Tuileries gardens. The gardens were on Sherlock's list of places to take John, so the wedding gave him the opportunity to do so before they had to return to London before fall term at St. Bart's began. 

"I wish we didn't have to go back to London at the end of next month. I've been spoiled with spending the entire summer here," John lamented.

"France is a wonderful country, but we both know you'd miss the familiar sights and smells of London. I'd miss it too. But don't fret love, I have plans for us to come back the week after Christmas, and we'd be here through the New Year."

"Yes, I'd love that Sher." He turned his head to kiss him. "I love France, and I love you."

"I love you too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me John." 

 *****

Key West was oppressively hot and humid but Greg didn't care. He was too busy surfing, swimming, snorkeling and scuba diving to really let the heat get to him. And the thunderstorms provided relief from the brutal summer sun's rays.

One such thunderstorm hit the island one afternoon while Greg and Mycroft were finishing up a late lunch in their condo. Greg was feeling spirited and decided to run out on the beach. "Come on My, let's go out and get caught in the rain!" he said.

"You can't be serious!" Mycroft protested.

"I am serious!" Greg took hold of Mycroft's wrist and pulled him towards the door which led out onto their private beach. Mycroft tried to argue, but after seeing how happy and carefree Greg was, he decided to stop being stuffy. "Oh what the hell, let's go!"

The two dashed for the sand, the driving rain pelting them and soaking their clothes. Luckily they were wearing T-shirts and swim trunks so they'd dry quickly. The ocean breeze was strong, and thunder rumbled in the gray sky. Greg and Mycroft were laughing and Mycroft was chasing Greg around. 

Then a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and the two stopped in their tracks. "We'd better get inside," Mycroft warned.

Greg shook his head. "Let's ride out the storm under the fishing pier. It'll be fun!" He took Mycroft's hand and the two made their way to the long wooden dock, settling down on some rocks that were underneath. Greg leaned back on the black stones and sighed. "That felt good. I love storms."

"It was very reviving," Mycroft agreed. "I haven't done that since I was a kid. Sherlock and I would run around during storms. Mummy didn't like it, but Father didn't mind, as long as there wasn't any lightning."

Greg sat up and scooted close to Mycroft, putting his head on his shoulder. "It's romantic, being here alone with you while the rain pours down. He leaned up and kissed Mycroft.

Mycroft hummed, deepening the kiss. Soon the two were lying on the rocks, ignoring the sharp angles and juts of the stone, until Mycroft climbed on top of Greg and placed his hand down by Greg's side. He pressed a little too hard and cut his palm on a jagged piece of rock. "Ouch!" he cried, holding up his palm. A trickle of blood oozed out. 

"My, you okay?" Greg sat up, concern on his face.

"Yes, just a little cut. These rocks are more dangerous than the storm." He sucked on the wound.

"Let's get inside and I'll patch you up. I'm sorry you got hurt, I guess we should have stayed in the condo."

"It's quite all right Gregory. It's just a minor scratch. The bleeding is already subsiding."

The two scrambled off the rocks and jogged back to the condo. The rain had let up a little but it was still thundering and lightning.

Greg retrieved the first aid kit from a cupboard in the kitchen. He cleaned and bandaged Mycroft's hand, then kissed the top of it. "There, all better."

Mycroft laughed. "Thank you Gregory."

"Let's get undressed and wait the storm out in bed," Greg suggested with a wink.

The two stripped off their damp clothes and got under the covers naked, wrapping their arms around each other, and soon the two were fast asleep.

*****

Greg was panting hard, his back pressed up against the bottom of the sofa, legs spread wide, hips slightly raised, hands digging into Mycroft's shoulders as his lover steadily slid in and out of him. "Ung, uh, oh...aah!" he cried out as the pleasure intensified.

Mycroft moaned, loving the sounds his Gregory made during sex. Another thunderstorm had begun, and as the rain grew more heavy and pounded against the windows, Mycroft sped up his thrusts. 

"My---woah!!!! Greg yelled, coming all over the older man's chest. 

Mycroft let out a long groan and shuddered violently as he climaxed inside Greg. He went limp and Greg leaned back, breathing heavily. "That was bloody amazing," he finally said, letting out a deep sigh.

Mycroft pulled out and collapsed beside Greg, taking his hand. "It certainly was. I'm glad we decided not to venture out on the mainland, especially with the storms pushing through again."

Greg slowly stood up. "I got you all dirty. I'll get a towel and clean you off." He headed for the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water, returning and kneeling down in front of Mycroft and gently began to rub his chest. "Hungry? You should be after that workout."

"I could certainly do with some dinner. What are you in the mood for?"

"Besides you? Hmm, not sure. Let's wait until the storm passes and maybe we can get out and see what strikes my fancy." Greg put the washcloth down on the floor and sat on top of Mycroft, leaning into kiss him. Mycroft embraced him and nuzzled his neck. It wouldn't be long before they would have to leave Florida and get back to real life in London. Greg would be going back to uni and he had The Diogenes to run, although he was sure Anthea was doing an excellent job taking care of things. When the two returned, Anthea would be leaving on a much needed holiday to Spain. 

But for now, he was going to enjoy the rest of his holiday with Greg. 

*****

Walking hand in hand, the two found a quaint Mexican place on the beach and indulged in margaritas and tacos.  The storm had quit and the sun had broken through the thick clouds. The weather had cooled comfortably. 

After dinner they stood on the shore, watching the waves crest and fall. The water was a little choppy thanks to the storm and not many people were on the beach. Greg pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of the two of them. "I'm sending this to John and Sherlock."

Before he could, Mycroft's phone buzzed. He reached into his pocket to see who was contacting him, believing it was Anthea. But to his surprise and amusement, it was Sherlock. He'd sent him a video.

He pressed play and he and Greg watched Sherlock, sitting at the kitchen table of the house in France, a smile on his handsome face. "Bon jour brother mine and Greg. I'm having a wonderful time in France, I hope you're having fun in Florida despite the heat."

Soon John was on screen, plopping himself on Sherlock's lap. "Hey!" Sherlock protested. Mycroft and Greg snickered at that.

"Hey you two, I know the Florida heat isn't bothering you because you're probably inside going at it like horny toads!" John joked, winking at the screen. "Greg, I'll see you at St. Bart's in a few weeks...won't be long before we're back to the grind!"

Then John leaned in, index finger pointing forward, and the screen went black.

Greg and Mycroft were laughing hysterically, holding on to each other. "John can be such a little prat sometimes," Greg said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"He certainly surprised Sherlock that's for sure. My brother will never be bored with him around."

Greg turned his phone back on, bringing up the picture of him and Mycroft.  He typed a caption "Nothing here but us horny toads!" and sent it to John. Mycroft watched him and shook his head, chuckling. 

"You want to go back to the condo now?" Greg asked, wrapping his arms around Mycroft.

"In a while. Let's just stay here and enjoy this beautiful sunset."

The two stood there in a loving embrace, enjoying the crisp evening breeze and watching the orange sun dip down behind the grayish purple clouds. 

*****

September came in with cooler weather but with lovely late summer skies and bright golden sunshine. Greg and John were taking advantage of the weather and were sitting outside on the St. Bart's campus, engaged in their reading assignments. School had started back up with little fanfare and they now had to get used to getting back in the swing of classes, homework, and papers. 

They heard a male voice call out their names, and the two looked up to see Sebastian Moran jogging towards them. "Hi Sebastian," Greg said with a friendly smile.

"Hey you two, how was your summer?"

"Wonderful. Mycroft and I were in Key West," Greg replied.

"And I was in France with Sherlock."

"Well Jimmy and I went to Ireland, and look what he gave me." Sebastian held out his left hand, proudly showing off the gold band with a tiny but sparkly diamond in the center. John and Greg's eyes and mouths opened wide.

"Is that what I think it is?" John asked.

"Yep. Jimmy proposed to me, in front of the Blarney Stone! The wedding is Valentine's Day and guess where we're having the ceremony?"

"Haven't a clue," Greg said.

"The Diogenes Club. You and John are both invited."

"Thanks, and congratulations," John replied.

"Yeah mate, best wishes to you both," Greg added.

"I've got to start heading to my next class, but maybe we can all get together Friday night for some drinks?" Sebastian suggested.

"That sounds great," John happily answered.

"I'm in," Greg chimed.

"I'll text you later. Have a good day!" Sebastian walked off, and John and Greg looked at each other. "Wow, I can't believe Sebastian's getting married. I'd never peg him as one to settle down," Greg mused.

"He's obviously found the love of his life," John replied.

"Just like we have." Greg shot his friend a knowing grin. "Aren't you glad you agreed to sign up at SugarDaddies4U?"

"I certainly am! And I'm glad you didn't go with furries as your project for sociology class. We could be dressed as Muppets right now!" John fell back on the ground laughing, and it wasn't long before Greg was joining him.

*****

_Two years later_

Viola Holmes looked elegant and radiant in her pale pink lace gown as she oversaw the staff setting up tables under a large white tent on the outskirts of the apple orchard. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and breathed in the intoxicating scent of the luscious fruit.  June was always a favorite month of hers.

As she walked the perfectly manicured grounds, she thought about all the charity balls and tea parties in the garden that were held here, to raise money for causes that were important to her. 

But today, on this gorgeous Saturday afternoon, this beautiful and magical old place would be holding the most important event of all, and the one closest to her heart. The double wedding of her sons Mycroft and Sherlock to their beloveds, Gregory Lestrade and John Watson. 

She found it hard to believe her boys found their soon-to-be spouses on a sugar daddy website, but the course of true love never did run smooth, as Shakespeare wrote. All she cared about was that they were happy, and they most definitely were.

SugarDaddies4U. What a silly name for a dating site.

Maybe she should check it out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they all lived happily ever after!

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts so far?


End file.
